Unexpectedly Expectant
by steffy2106
Summary: Some secrets can bring people together. Molly had faked Sherlock's death and now has nobody to confide into except for the only other person who knows the truth...Sherlock's brother Mycroft. As time goes by, Molly discovers a side of Mycroft she didn't know existed & Mycroft starts to realize that not everyone is a Goldfish. Mollcroft story. I suck at summary sorry give it a try.
1. Chapter 1

**A.N** Hello my Sherlock fans

As you know my true OTP is Sherlolly (or Mollock) but I wanted to challenge myself and someone on Tumblr requested a Mollcroft story and I thought "why not? Challenge accepted" Maybe I can write some Mollcroft. So here it goes. This one is the prologue; the next chapter will actually be set 2 years earlier.

English is not my first language and I have no proofreader so please be nice. If any of you would like to proofread this story please send me a private message.

Please review and let me know what you think!

Steffy2106

**Prologue. **

Molly was sitting on the closed toilet, a positive pregnancy test in her hand and she didn't know what she was supposed to do. She wanted to laugh and cry, all at the same time.

She let her eyes wander to the sink tablet where 3 other positive tests rested.

She was 35 years old and this was her only and maybe even last chance to ever have a baby. Molly shook her head and let the test fall in the trashcan before walking numbly into the living room. One thing was sure; she was going to keep this baby no matter what he had to say about it.

She looked at the coffee table where the newspaper's main title said, "_Sherlock Holmes is back_!" it was a week old now, but Molly kept it as a reminder since it was the day she was finally done lying to everybody.

Two years, two years had passed since she faked Sherlock's death, and if anybody would have told her things would have turned the way they did, she would have laughed at their faces thinking they were utterly insane.

And yet, here she was in the most absurd scenario, impregnated by the most unlikely man. A man she was not even sure cared about her, a man she was not sure how she even felt about.

Molly looked at her phone as if it was about to spring to life. What was she supposed to do? They had agreed to take their distance after Sherlock had resurrected. He hadn't even tried to call her in 10 days. How could she just call and tell him about the pregnancy? Maybe there was no point…She knew the rate of miscarriages for women during the first trimester, especially for women over 30.

Molly leaned in to grab the phone, but she stopped herself. How could she put this weight on his shoulders? She felt sure of herself as a mother, she was sure he would never see himself as a father, hell he barely saw himself as a man.

She stood up and went to stand in front of the window to look at the sun set down the street. She let her eyes wander to the streetlight across her house and sighed spotting the video camera attached to the lamp itself.

She snorted, shaking her head and closing her curtains. Who was she fooling? If she didn't tell him he would find out soon enough. That man knew everything and then there would be hell to pay she knew that already.

She took a deep breath trying to calm her nerves and stammering heart.

"Come on Molly Hooper, you can do it." She whispered to herself, grabbing her phone with a shaky hand.

She pressed her speed dial 2 and he answered after the first ring.

Molly closed her eyes, and leaned against the wall for support. "Hi…No, no I'm fine. Sorry to bother you, but I need to see you…Yes its important…Okay I'll be here… No, he doesn't know…. See you soon."

Molly slid her phone in her jean pocket and sat on her sofa, looking at her turned off TV waiting for him to arrive. She had no idea how it was going to go.

She closed her eyes letting her head rest on the sofa while she remembered how it all started.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N: **Hello dear readers!

Wow I was extremely impressed by all the responses I got for chapter 1! 26 followers after the prologue, Thank you so _**SO**_ much! A huge hug to **Rocking the Redhead, Lanceletta, FancyPapillon87, sailorbebe and Capitolrebel13** for reviewing. It motivated me to write chapter 2 and post it today.

I realized there are much more Mollcroft potential fans out there than I originally thought. Also English is not my native language so please forgive my grammar and spelling mistake. Again if one of you is interested in proofreading this story you are more than welcome to send me a private message.

Leave me a little note and let me know what you think.

**Steffy2106**

**Chapter 2: **

_Two years earlier: _

Molly was exiting the morgue when it was already dark out. She sighed glancing at her watch, she did well over four hours overtime tonight but no matter how she let herself emerged in her work, she couldn't help the gnawing feeling of guilt that was eating her inside.

She accepted to help Sherlock and she knew she would do it over and over again if asked to but lying to everybody, seeing their grief and pain, was much harder for her to bear than she had expected even if it had only been a week since it all started.

Molly wrapped her jacket tighter around herself trying to fight the evening chills. She was about to cross the street when a black, luxury sedan stopped in front of her.

The tinted window slid down but she knew who to expect before even seeing him.

"Good Evening Dr. Hooper, could I drive you home?"

"Mr. Holmes." She tried to smile but she was never completely at ease with Mycroft Holmes. Maybe it was because he was Sherlock's brother, maybe it was because of his constant haughty attitude, or even because this man represented the British government and could have her eliminated with a snap of his fingers.

"I…Ummmm… It's just….I…" She looked up and down the street.

"Just get in Dr. Hooper, I just want to talk" he said, opening the door.

"Sure." She replied sitting beside him, her hands neatly folded on her lap.

Mycroft gave her address to the driver. She was about to ask him how he knew where she lived but she shook her head. It was Mycroft Holmes; he probably knew everything about her.

They remained silent for the whole drive and as the minutes passed she was getting more and more nervous.

"Just breathe Dr. Hooper" Mycroft said, throwing her a quick side glance.

"Please call me Molly, Mr. Holmes. I think we're passed you calling me by my last name." She said in an attempt to diffuse whatever irrational apprehension she was feeling.

"Very well Molly. " He replied while doing something on his phone but she didn't miss the fact he didn't ask her to call him Mycroft. "May I join you for a few minutes when we reach destination? I would like to discuss some things."

Molly didn't need more to understand he wanted to talk about Sherlock and nodded.

When they entered the small living room, Molly couldn't help but be self-conscious. It wasn't that she was trying to impress Mycroft Holmes in any way, but just seeing him there, standing in his overpriced light grey button three piece suit, which probably cost more than all the furniture in her flat, made her feel completely out of place.

"This is…" He looked around while leaning on his ever present umbrella. "Nice." He grimaced with slight disgust when Toby rubbed himself against his pants' leg.

Molly smiled, she had to give it to him he had much more tact than his brother. "No it's not, but thank you for the effort. What can I do for you?"

"I just wanted to let you know that everything went according to plan. Our mutual friend has now crossed the North Sea and is well. Well as good as we could hope."

Molly gave him a wide and honest smile. She was glad to know Sherlock was fine. "Thank you."

"Now to a more serious subject; what do you want?"

"What do I want?" She asked, scrunching her eyebrows in confusion.

"Yes, you took quite considerable risks to help my brother in his time of need; something that I greatly appreciated. My question is what can I give you to repay you? There isn't much I cannot get."

"Why would you do that? I don't want anything for what I did. I did it out of friendship."

Mycroft smiled, straightening his jacket. "I don't believe in friendship Dr. Hooper, people always want something in return. Selflessness is just a myth; I never met anyone who had no ulterior motives."

"If this is the case, I would suggest you to find better friends."

"I don't have any friend" he replied impassive.

Molly looked away as she knew he wouldn't appreciate the wave of pity that hit her. "Well I presume, you just didn't meet the right persons."

"I met every kind of persons there is to meet Miss Hooper."

Molly shook her head. "I disagree with you, I had no ulterior motive."

"But you had sentiments…Sentiments are weaknesses. Caring is not an advantage."

Molly crossed her arms on her chest, trying to calm her anger. "What would you know about caring? Caring is a strength to me, not a weakness."

Mycroft cocked his head to the side, puzzled. "You really believe that."

"Yes I do."

Mycroft took his pocket watch out of his jacket, and looked at the time. "Very well, if you change your mind just let me know."

"I won't."

Mycroft laughed. "If you say so."

"Will you be coming to the funerals next week?" She blurted out before he could exit her flat.

Mycroft turned around, resting his hand on the knob. "Why on earth would I do that? Everybody knows that Sherlock and I were estranged and I have a lot of work, I do not have time for this simulacrum of a funeral."

"Oh… Okay."

"You are disappointed. Why are you disappointed?" He asked letting go of the doorknob, taking a couple of steps back in the room.

"You don't know me, how would you know I am disappointed?"

Mycroft smiled and this one actually looked genuine. "Sherlock is not the smart one, I am the smart one."

"Oh!" Molly eyebrows shot in surprised. Sherlock was a genius, so what did that made Mycroft? A super genius?

"I can deduce even better than he could dream of, this is also a reason for his frustration and his dislike."

"I see…" Molly started to bite her bottom lip, she was getting nervous again she didn't like the idea of Mycroft reading her like an open book.

"But the reason behind your disappointment escapes me."

"It's just… you know." She shrugged. "I liked the idea to have someone there that could help me deal with all the grief, someone who is in the secret." She waived her hand dismissively. "But you're right, you're busy forget I asked."

Mycroft nodded. "I am not one to help people cope with anything. I wish you a good night Molly, thank you again for assisting my brother." He turned toward her after exiting the flat. "By the way I think it's time for you to call me Mycroft." He added with a small smile before closing the door behind him.

"Mycroft…" Molly tried after he left and grimaced. Yea, it just **sounded** wrong. Molly made herself a cup of herbal tea and smiled glad that Sherlock was now safe, well as safe as Sherlock Holmes could be. At least she didn't do that and took all these risks for nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N:** Hi my friends!

Thank you so much for the enthusiastic responses to chapter 2. I don't even know what to say to you! I greatly appreciate your reviews/follow and favorite. I am also doing my best to answer and take your reviews into account. Thank you to** Elli** for her suggestion, you are right the Holmes brothers are respectful of titles, I made the change suggested.

Once more a giant bear hug to **kslivlib, Elli, Lancetta, Fancypapillon87, Brytte Mystere, ammerawrites, infinitesparkle, sailorbebe, Rocking the Redhead, Sue333 **and** AJP910** for the reviews. If I am now on my computer writing chapter 3 it's because of you.

A big thank you to **CapitolRebel13** for proofreading this chapter!

Please Note the idea was given to me by **FancyPapillon87** who wanted a full length Mollcroft story with a pregnant Molly so….I hope it will meet her expectations.

Please note I do not own Sherlock BBC or its characters.

And if you want to leave me a review I would give you Mycroft with a cherry on top :P

Steffy2106

**Chapter 3:**

Molly was tightening her hair in a ponytail for the third time in five minutes keeping her eyes locked with her own reflection. How was she supposed to go along with the day? Facing John and his broken heart knowing she was part of it all, knowing that just a word from her could ease the pain?

She smoothed her hands on her black dress and averted her eyes. She knew she was doing the right thing, she knew that telling John would put him in danger. One slip could cost Sherlock his life. After all Moriarty's Network was not the most secure thing to dismantle.

She sighed settling for a bun this time. Knowing she was doing the right thing was not making the whole situation any easier for her. Molly had never been good at lying. One reason being, she never considered lying as something necessary. This situation was an exception where lying was a necessary evil to keep everybody, including herself, safe.

She looked back at herself as she put on pearl stud earrings. The dress she was wearing was the dress she wore to her father funeral. Thinking about it made her heart ache. It has been 9 years since he died and yet the pain was just as fresh as she slipped on the dress. Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe it would help her fake it a bit better.

Her phone rang and John's name flashed on her screen

"Hi John, yes I am about to leave. I'll meet you there." She closed her eyes trying to contain her tears. "I know John. I miss him too." This was not a lie, she did miss Sherlock.

When the cab left Molly at the cemetery, she noticed that John, Mrs. Hudson and Greg Lestrade were already there.

As Molly approached, John walked briskly toward her and pulled her into a tight hug which was not something she had expected.

"Thank you, I needed you there. " He said breaking the hug but resting his hands on her shoulders. "Nobody can understand it as we do."

Molly's heart physically hurt for John. She didn't miss his disheveled look, his light stubble; his blood shot eyes and dark circle. She was an instrument in John pain and she hated herself for that.

"They all cared about Sherlock" she said, her voice thick with emotion. A couple other people she didn't know arrived and went to stand beside Mrs. Hudson.

"Yes but they didn't love him, not the way we did."

"You don't know that John."

John looked at her, eyes mixed with pain and anger, he let his hand slid down to the elbow and nudged her toward Sherlock's grave. "Some people should not be here and others should be." He added his anger clearly discernable.

Molly understood that John was going through the five stages of grief; she lived the same way when her father died. At first, John had asked her many times if there was a way Sherlock faked it. He insisted so much she almost thought he knew, now he was angry with Sherlock entourage which was stage 2, at least it was some sort of progress.

"I just can't believe he didn't even come!" He spat at her.

Molly looked at him, confused.

"Mycroft." John replied as if Molly should have figured it out.

"Oh you know I'm sure he is heartbroken but maybe it's his way to cope, maybe he is not for this public display or-"

John shook his head sniffling loudly. He cleared his throat and Molly knew he was containing his tears. "This is not a reason Molly, he had to come… Show us his support."

"And I am here John, I was just running late." Said Mycroft from so close behind her she jumped.

She turned around briskly, a hand on her chest. "Mycroft…" She whispered. He had been so silent it was like he had appeared out of thin air. She let her eyes trail off behind him and saw his car parked behind the hearse. She looked at him and tried to thank him with her eyes, the slight bow of his head led her to know he understood.

"How could you be late for your own brother funerals?" John asked letting his anger out.

"It's not as if he was going to notice." Mycroft replied standing taller. "All lives end, all hearts are broken John."

John opened his mouth, and Molly could see a scandal looming.

Molly rested her hand on John's shoulder to stop him from talking. "Mycroft please." She pleaded.

Mycroft looked at her and if she didn't know any better she would have said his face softened ever so slightly. "Very well Molly, I shall refrain from further comment."

John frowned, looking from Molly to Mycroft as if he was witnessing something unnatural. John reached for her hand and squeezed it before turning as the priest was about to start.

Molly didn't have to fake sadness as her tears ran freely down her face. She was crying for John and all the pain he was feeling. She was crying for Sherlock and the dangerous mission he was on. She was crying for herself and all the changes she's been through recently.

"I want to be alone for a little while but Mrs. Hudson and I can drive you home," said John once the ceremony was over.

Molly was about to open her mouth to agree but Mycroft intervene coming to stand beside her. "Do not worry yourself Dr. Watson, I shall drive Molly home."

John sent her a questioning look and relaxed when she nodded. He gave her a big hug. "Don't be a stranger," he told her as he let go of her. "Mycroft."

"John." Mycroft replied before turning to Molly. "Shall we?"

Molly nodded, walking beside him.

"Thank you." She said smoothing her dress as she settled beside him in the car.

"This is nothing; I have to drive in front of your house to go back to my office." He replied his eyes glued on his phone, the stupid thing was like an extension of his arm.

"No, I mean yes thank you for the ride, but it was not what I was thanking you about."

Mycroft put his mobile phone in his suit jacket and turned toward Molly. "Why are you thanking me for?"

"For coming. I- I know you didn't want to and I appreciate it."

"I didn't do it for you Molly, I realized that not coming would be more suspicious than actually coming."

"Oh, okay then." Molly felt both stupid and hurt. Of course he didn't come for her, he didn't go out of his way to help his own brother what else did she expect? Mycroft Holmes was the British government; why would he care about a silly and clumsy pathologist feelings?

Mycroft sighed. "Don't worry too much about John Watson he will be fine."

"How do you know I am worried?"

"Are we going to do that every time? I can deduce you, and believe me, it is so flagrant it doesn't take a Holmes to figure it out."

"He is in a bad place and I feel helpless when I know I have a way to ease his pain."

"No you don't, it is not your prerogative to tell him."

"I know and I won't talk."

"Yes, my brother told me you are trustworthy and he is usually a good judge of character. John will be fine. Time will do its work. It always does."

"As a friend, it is my duty to worry for him or for…for our mutual friend. You might try it one day."

"I am a middle-aged man with, what it seems, quite irritable qualities and a heartless reputation. Tell me Molly, who would volunteer?"

She shrugged. "I would." She let slip out without thinking.

Mycroft frowned before giving her a tight smile. "Thank you for the offer Dr. Hooper, I will keep that in mind."

She smiled back knowing he would dismiss her offer as soon as she would be out of the car. However her offer was genuine, maybe it was because she missed Sherlock or maybe it was because this man intrigued her or maybe it was because she thought that if she could reach him, the most unreachable man…Maybe there was hope.

"Well I do believe we reached your destination." Mycroft added.

Moly realized the car had stopped and blushed furiously. "I… Yes, well thanks again for everything even if you didn't do it for me I do appreciate it."

"And thank you for the friendship offer."

Molly exited the car but leaned down before closing the door. "And do what you want with it, but I strongly believe that deep down you do have a heart. Most heartless people have a heart Mycroft. They'll just do anything to protect it even if it means that they have to break yours." She read the surprise on his face before closing the door and walked briskly to her house before he had the chance to add anything.


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N:** Hey!

Wow I am literally speechless by the response this fiction is getting. Seriously you are bringing a constant smile on my face. For those who are following me usually I lost my job but I found a new one and started on Monday. Things will get a bit busier but I promise you guys to update this story at least once a week but i made this chapter EXTRA LONG for you.

I never expected Mollcroft to attract so many fans. Thanks to my devoted reviewers: **Rocking the Redhead, kslivlib, APJ910, Treklocked Asgardian, Brytte Mystere, bekkarific, Quorra221B, infinitesparkle, Azile Signer, Rossi's Lil Devil, Jenevi, Ruby890 and guest.** Your support is keeping me motivated.

Big thanks to APJ910 for proofreading this chapter.

I still don't own Sherlock.

Steffy2106

**Chapter 4: **

Molly looked at the clock as she was finishing dictating her report. She had only 30 minutes left before meeting John and Lestrade…She would have to run yet again.

It has been two months since Sherlock's funeral and they started to meet once a week, on Fridays for a drink and to share anecdotes about Sherlock. It did help John quite a lot and she saw a few genuine smiles on his face. She hoped that tonight would be good for her too, today had been a particularly sad day in the morgue and even if she had been a pathologist for over 6 years, it still got to her every once in a while and today was one of these days. A family of four had been in a car accident, the father and mother died on impact. The oldest son was in a critical condition and the ER people didn't expect him to make it through the night. The only survivor would be their three years old son.

Molly pressed the 'record' button and looked down at the blood test results. She was about to start dictating again when she heard a pair of heels click in the morgue.

Molly grabbed the first thing she could find as a weapon which was her coffee mug '_I see dead people'_ a funny gift from Stamford when she got promoted to full pathologist.

"Oh yea Molly you're going to cause damage with this damn cup." She grumbled tiptoeing in the morgue, the cup in front of her like a bat.

There was a woman, quite good looking in a smart skirt suits and heels so high, Molly couldn't even imagine taking a step in those. The woman was looking down typing furiously on her blackberry.

"May I help you?" Molly asked lowering her cup.

The woman quickly glanced up before looking down at her phone again. "There's a car in front for you, you're needed."

Molly frowned. "Yea I don't think so."

The woman looked up again but this time she kept her eyes on Molly with half a mocking smile on her face. "Nice cup."

"Who needs to see me?"

The woman arched an eyebrow. "You're safe Miss Hooper but my employer has limited patience."

"I don't have the choice don't I?"

The woman looked back to her phone. "Nope."

Molly reached for the phone in her pocket about to dial Lestrade when her phone vibrated in her pocket.

_This is my PA. I am waiting in the car. MH_

"Are you working for Mycroft Holmes?"

The woman nodded still playing with her blackberry.

"What's your name?" When the woman didn't answer, Molly went to the office picked up her bag and jacket and followed her silently to the sleek black car.

"Anthea." She said gesturing her to the car.

"What?"

"My name is Anthea."

The door opened, and Molly tried to look the car but she only saw darkness.

"Get in Dr. Hooper." She heard Mycroft aristocratic tone come from the darkness. "Anthea order another car, Dr. Hooper and I need to talk in private."

"It's not her real name is it?"

"No it is not and please don't worry too much, as long as I will be alive nothing will happen to you or to John Watson."

Strangely enough Molly believed him. She didn't know the man, she didn't even know how powerful he was, and yet as his eyes bored on her she felt safe.

"But if it is not the case, I would advise you to use something other than a cup as a weapon."

Molly frowned. "She didn't have time to tell you about that."

"No, no she didn't but there are video cameras and where there are videos I can look. Did you think you wouldn't be under surveillance?"

"Well yes, I don't count. I'm …I'm nobody."

"Oh think again Molly, you are the only reason my brother survived. You were on this day the person he trusted the most which makes you an asset."

"And… And are you spying on me often?"

Mycroft gave her a little haughty smile. "I can assure you I do not enjoy it. I have to do what I have to do to keep you and our people safe."

Molly sighed, knowing that her concerns wouldn't stop him from doing what he thought he should do. "How have you been doing Mr. Holmes?"

"Excuse me?" He asked visibly taken aback.

"The last time I saw you was two months ago at Sherlock's funeral. You might have an eye on us but we're not doing the same so how are you doing?"

"I thought we agreed you would call me Mycroft. And I am doing fine, just as our friend is." He smiled. "Did you really care about my well-being or was it a more tactful way to wonder about the person you truly care for?"

Molly tilted her head to the side. "You're the genius, you tell me."

Mycroft gave her a half crooked smile; he seemed to be enjoying her attitude.

"You seem to really care but to be honest I do not have enough data, to make sure. As I said before, people always have something else in mind when they come to me."

"Well you came to me, what do you need?"

Mycroft phone rang; he looked at the screen, "I'm sorry, I need to take that." Mycroft listened to the person. "Toto is never going back to Kansas." Mycroft replied cryptically. "So where were we?" He said to Molly. "Oh yes, I don't need anything I just came here to inform you that Saint Bartholomew's hospital is going to be under investigations starting tomorrow. You have nothing to be worried about, it has nothing to do with you. You are being kept out of any official or non-official reports; as far as the investigators are concerns you and any of your cases are off limits."

"Why?"

He smiled. "Why not?"

"It doesn't seem fair."

"I'm not here to be fair Molly, I'm here to keep you safe."

She opened her mouth but closed it again. "Where are we going?"

"To Kings' Pub where you're supposed to meet your friends."

"How do—" She shook her head. "I don't even want to know."

"I think it's a wise choice. Is your friendship offer still on the table Molly?"

"Of course it is, what do you need?" She repeated.

"I need company."

"I don't… okay sure. I ummm would you like to go to dinner?" She asked confused.

He smiled again. "I apologize Molly I should have been more specific," he cleared his throat readjusting his tie. "You see I abhor social gatherings."

Molly nodded, unsurprised. She knew that Sherlock hated any social gathering and she was pretty sure his big brother was feeling even stronger about it.

"Sadly in my line of job sometimes I have to indulge in these events." He grimaced. "But you see if Sherlock seems a little slow to me imagine how ordinary people appear to me?"

Molly knew his words didn't mean to hurt her but it still made her feel diminished.

"Goldfishes." He confirmed. "I don't mind what people think of me Molly; don't think otherwise but you see even if I have to attend I want to limit my interaction with people to a minimum and many people want to interact with me as they have ulterior motives."

Molly looked at him silently, trying to keep her face impassible but her mind was racing. Did he consider her as a goldfish? If he did why did he even bother talk to her? If he thought Sherlock was slow she was barely functioning in his eyes.

"But as strangely as it seems you don't seem to have ulterior motives and I think your company will help me keep people at bay and will stop some of the unwanted romantic attention."

"So bottom line - you want me to be your date for an event."

"Basically….yes."

Molly smiled. "Okay then."

"Okay then? Does it mean you are agreeing?"

"If you don't mind spending your day with a pathologist goldfish then yes I will."

Mycroft had the decency to look uncomfortable. "It is not what I meant."

"Of course it is but it's okay." Molly looked at her watch, she was already five minutes late to meet John and she knew he would be starting to worry soon. "So, what is it? When is it? And where?"

"Ah yes you have to go, I apologize, it slipped my mind. It will be a wedding, next Saturday as for the couple or the location I am sorry to say these information are classified."

"Okay. What time on Saturday?"

"Okay?" Mycroft frowned, his lips pursed with clear disapproval. "I told you almost nothing and yet you say okay? We really need to work on that Molly, you are trusting to a point of stupidity."

If this remark would have come from anybody else she would have gotten mad but he was a Holmes. "That's what friends do Mycroft, you told me that no harm would come to me and I decided to trust you what is wrong with that?"

"It's unnatural."

"Maybe to you."

"Maybe to me…." Mycroft whispered as if he was talking to himself. "Well you better go, Dr. Watson spotted the car and is on his way. I will contact you with more details during the week. Thank you again."

"That's what friends are for." She opened the door. "And if you ever speak to our friend, please tell him my thoughts are with him."

"What a lucky man." Mycroft said looking away. "Have a good night Molly."

Molly was about to ask him what he meant when John called her name, crossing the street to come meet her. Molly closed the door and the car left just as John reached her.

"I was starting to worry, you're never late." He said keeping his eyes on the car.

Molly couldn't get annoyed with John's overprotectiveness; he had been like that since Sherlock's 'death' and Molly couldn't blame him. "I'm sorry I lost track of time."

"Was that Mycroft Holmes?" He asked, looking down at Molly once the car disappeared from his line of vision.

"Yes, it was." Molly replied prudently taking the direction of the pub where she could see Greg looking at them by the window.

"What did that weasel want?" He asked darkly.

Molly sighed. "Don't call him that."

"Oh, believe me Molly, that was the nicest word I could think of and I censured myself just out of respect of you."

Molly stopped and turned toward John. She didn't like the idea to talk openly in the street, but it was better than in front of Greg and a pub full of people. "John you have to back off, you might have lost your best friend but Mycroft lost his brother."

"Are you serious here, Molly?" John asked, crossing his arms on his chest. "Mycroft is the reason Sherlock's dead. He sold his brother to Moriarty for information. _**HIS. OWN. BROTHER. **_Molly. He doesn't have consideration for anything but his nation and his job. If he sold Sherlock, his own flesh and blood for Intel, what do you think he would do to you?" John shook his head. "I always found your big heart an attractive trait; Molly but right now you are walking the fine line between kindness and stupidity."

Being called stupid twice in less than 10 minutes made her temper flare "I am not stupid John, and you don't even know the whole story."

"And you do?" He asked challenging.

_Yes in fact I do._ She mentally told him. "No I guess not." She said with resignation.

"Mycroft is only giving you his version of the story. He probably had you believing he is concerned about you or even me but he is not; the only thing that concerns Mycroft Holmes is himself. Sherlock had tried to tell me this over and over again but I didn't want to believe that a brother could do something like that and it cost my best friends life. I won't let you be as blind as I have been." John turned to the window and gestured to Greg that they would be in soon. "He probably had you believing he had a minor role in the British government, didn't he?"

Molly was taken aback by John's words. She knew that Sherlock's death was only a ruse, but John's convictions couldn't help but shake her deep down.

John gave her a humorless laugh. "I knew it! Sherlock told me the truth. Molly, Mycroft is not working for the British Government he _**IS**_ the British Government and the British Secret Services when he is not working freelance for the CIA. He can start wars and have you killed with one phone call. Molly, this man is much more powerful and dangerous than you can even start to understand."

"Well rest at ease John, Mycroft didn't want anything from me, he just had questions about Sherlock. I mean really, what could a man like him want with a woman like me?" She asked him.

John looked at her as if he didn't quite believe her but sighed with rendition. "Just be careful."

"I always am."

The evening was quite tense and instead of spending a couple of relaxing hours, Molly was more than relieved when they parted ways after less than an hour.

When Molly reached her house she felt observed somehow. She hated to admit it, but John's words had affected her more than she thought they did. Was Mycroft really as powerful as John said? But even if he was dangerous, Molly wouldn't back down. His stand-offish behaviour intrigued her. It was like a sudoku puzzle, difficult at first, but once she started piecing the pieces together it became easier. Molly couldn't wait to solve the puzzle of Mycroft Holmes or at least try to.

As soon as she turned on the lights, her mobile rang. "Private" flashed on the screen.

"Hello?" She replied tentatively.

"You can rethink if you wish."

"Mycroft?"

"Yes."

Molly relaxed and reached for the remote control, she just made it on time for the night news. "Why would I do that?"

"I presume John Watson had a discussion with you after my departure"

Molly was sure he saw that on the CCTV camera placed in the street, for all she knew he might have even heard every word they have spoken. "Yes he did, but no it didn't make me change my mind. I might be a goldfish but I still like to think and make my own opinion." _It did make me rethink for a minute though_ she added to herself.

Mycroft sighed with clear irritation. "You're not going to let this one go, are you?"

Molly smiled. "Quite unlikely." She let her eyes wander to the screen and her smile vanished. "_Breaking News: Dorothy Jenkins__,__ the estranged wife of our Ambassador in Germany was killed in a car accident on her way to the airport. This tragic death happen__ed, __the Guardians revealed__, as __she was coming back to the country in order to reveal some political scandals involving her husband and some of the highest members of our government."_

She gripped the phone tightly. '_He can start wars and have you killed with one phone call_' she heard John in her head. She replayed the scene in the car, Mycroft's phone call, "Toto is never going back to Kansas." She whispered her mind was racing: Dorothy….Toto…the Wizard of Oz. It could be a coincidence but Sherlock always said that the Universe was rarely so lazy.

"Molly? Dr. Hooper, are you all right?" She heard as she came back to reality. "I'm sending a team just-"

"No, no I'm okay." She said breathlessly. "I'm okay, I assure you."

"Is there anything you want to ask me?" He asked, and she didn't miss the edge and the caution in his voice.

She frowned; did she say anything out loud? She cleared her throat, looking at the picture of the dead woman on the screen. "Yes I do."

"I'm listening….."

"At what time should I be ready on Saturday?"


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N: **

I am speechless with all the reviews, favorite and alerts. I am so grateful for all of you Mollcroft fans. The dark side is quite fun isn't it?

Anyways I sure hope you're going to like this chapter. Thank you to my faithful reviewers for your constant support. It means much more than I can say.

I still don't own Sherlock as if I had my way things will be different.

Leave me a little review. I love reading you

Steffy2106

**Chapter 5:**

"You needed me sir?" asked Anthea, walking into Mycroft's office.

"Yes, I need you to go buy suitable clothing for Dr. Hooper." He said, extending his platinum card to her.

Anthea grabbed the card and sighed. "I have to admit that she has horrendous taste, I almost wish to be blind. Should I buy her a full set of clothes?"

Mycroft sighed, his PA could be a real pain but she was the best, which allowed some indulgence with her attitude. "No, I need you to buy her something for Saturday, that's it."

" Too bad, but it's a start. What do you have in mind?"

Mycroft wave his hand dismissively. "Something classy but not overplayed. Molly is a natural woman; she needs sober and classy…Go to Alexander McQueen, Stella McCartney or Armani Collezioni… You know my taste."

"I thought I did." She said sliding the bank card on her bag. "What's the limit?"

"There is no limit."

"You know what I think?"

"I don't want to know what you think."

"I'll tell you anyway."

Mycroft leaned his forearms on his desk, intertwining his fingers with a little sardonic smile on his face. "The suspense is killing me."

"You don't need to take her wherever you're going Saturday. We both know you're good at averting unwanted attention." She smiled. "You're the Iceman, after all."

"What is the reason behind your chatter? I have work to do which is obviously not your case, and if you value your job I would advise you to stop right there."

"I just-"

"Now!" He roared, and she took a step back. Mycroft cleared his throat. He had just lost his temper, and it was not something he ever did. For him, losing his temper was a sign of weakness.

"Very well sir. I will send you a picture of the dress."

Mycroft look down at the folder in front of him. "It is not necessary; I will see it on Saturday. Please inform Dr. Hooper I shall be there at 11:30 am."

**SHSHSHHSHHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH**

Molly was scrubbing her sink when she heard a sharp knock at the door. She looked up at the clock, it was after 9 and she didn't have many friends.

She looked in the peep hole and saw Mycroft's assistant, and as usual she was looking down at her phone.

Molly looked down at her clothing, she was wearing a holey tee-shirt and oversized sweatpants, there was no way she would go out to meet Mycroft dressed like that.

"I'm not going anywhere" Said Molly opening the door.

Anthea put the phone in her pocket and extended a black bag to Molly while reaching for a gown bag she laid on the banister.

"Good to know." Anthea walked in uninvited and hung the dress bag behind the door.

"Please come in." Molly said sarcastically, while eyeing what was in the bag curiously. There was a shoe box 'Louboutin' and a clutch handbag. She turned to the garment bag that said "Oscar De La Renta." She had heard of this name. She might not be an expert but she knew that it was designer and most likely atrociously expensive.

"What are all these for?" asked Molly, setting the bag on the coffee table.

"The wedding. Saturday be ready by 11:30." Anthea replied.

"I have clothes; you didn't need to buy that."

Anthea looked at her from head to toes with an eyebrow raised. "Sure…."

"I mean, you are catching me at a bad time."

Anthea snorted reaching for her phone again. "Then every time I ever saw you was a bad time. Don't worry it was not done only for you, we are doing a public service here."

Molly was both hurt and angry; she liked the way she dressed. She was about to answer when Anthea sighed with clear exasperation.

"I'm quite in a hurry, but should I select your undergarment as well?" Anthea asked taking a step in the flat.

Molly blushed furiously. "No, no I think I can handle that part."

Anthea smiled. "If you say so… bye!"

As soon as Anthea was out. Molly rushed to look at the dress. It was a silk faille draped dress amaranth, the shoes and handbag were by Louboutin. She checked the prices of all the items and the total came to around £3000.00.

Molly looked up wide-eyed, it was about four months' rent money. She thought It was obscene for her to wear something so expensive when children were starving.

She sighed, closing her eyes. She knew she would have to wear it. She was not sure what this wedding was, but she knew she would have to wear something that would not embarrass Mycroft. She reviewed her closet mentally, and she didn't have anything half as nice.

**SHSHSHSHHSSHSHSHSHH**

Molly looked at her jewelry box and took out the best she had, which was probably junk for the people she was going to see today.

She looked at herself in the mirror, while grazing her mother's pearl necklace with her fingers. The set was showing signs of age, but she still thought it was perfect for this occasion, for this dress.

Molly started to do her makeup and her hairdo. She was about to undo her bun when she heard the bell, she let her eyes wander to the alarm clock- 11:28 am. At least Mycroft was on time. She was grateful for that, she wouldn't have the time to second- guess her choices.

When she opened the door, she was not surprised to see Mycroft in a perfectly tailored three-pieces dark grey suit. It was perfectly suitable for a high end wedding, but if she was honest with herself it was not any different than every day Mycroft. This man was always perfectly dressed and coordinated. Every time she saw him it was like he was vomited out of a GQ magazine (a very posh version of the GQ, mind you).

"Why are you smiling?" asked Mycroft, intrigued.

"Are you always dressed for a wedding?"

Mycroft looked down at his clothes as she walked back in the House to retrieve her bag and shawl. "I guess I just have an extremely well- developed fashion sense."

"I can't deny that."

"As for you Molly, I have to admit you are superb." He said, bowing lightly, making her blush.

"Ah, well, thank you, this is all the dress."

Mycroft shook his head. "I have to disagree, you should have a higher opinion of yourself." He extended his elbow to her. "Shall we?"

She chuckled, trying to hide her discomfort. "We'll see what you say when I fall flat on my face. I've never wore heels this high in my life."

Mycroft looked down at her pink toenails and seemed to be pondering something before looking up. He gave her a half smile. "Just hold on tight, I will never let you fall." he said. This touched Molly much more than she dared to admit. His comment was not light; it was full of meaning, as if he were trying to tell her something much more important.

"I know you won't." she replied softly, grabbing his arm.

Mycroft seemed taken aback by what she said but he kept quiet. "I'm sorry, it's going to be a bit of a ride."

"How long?" She asked, adjusting her dress as she sat across from him in the car.

"Over an hour, I am afraid."

Molly shrugged. "It's all right."

"It will give us some time to talk."

She was about to reply- why would he talk with a goldfish? - but he didn't seem to be in the mood. She didn't know the man well as yet, but she could easily see he was on edge. "I left the tag on."

Mycroft cocked his head on the side, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"The dress, I hid the tag but I left it on, so Anthea, or whatever her name is, can return it."

"You did?" Mycroft couldn't contain the half smile forming on his face; Molly was so different than any other woman he ever met.

"Yep." She nodded. "It's just by the sleeve. You can't see it, right?" she asked, suddenly worried. She didn't want to embarrass Mycroft in front of his Society friends.

Mycroft leaned forward. "Let me see."

Molly moved slightly to give him a better view.

Mycroft brought his hand up, and when his hand reached under the sleeve, his fingers grazed her shoulder, making shivers go down her spine. The effect his touch caused surprised her, and if his quick intake of breath was any indication, he had been affected as well.

She heard some kind of tearing sound which brought her back to reality.

"Here we go" said Mycroft leaning back on his seat. "Now we have nothing to worry about." he added, putting the tag on the seat beside him.

"Why did you do that?" She asked, her voice a bit too high. She cleared her throat. "How are you going to bring it back now?"

"I never intended to bring it back; this dress is yours to keep."

"But...But, no I can't accept this, the dress is way too...No, this is too much."

Mycroft waved his hand dismissively, getting his phone out of his pocket and probably checking his email. "Take it as a token of my appreciation, a thank-you for coming with me to this tedious event."

"I don't need a thank you, I'm happy to come with you."

"You know, Molly, there comes a point when money doesn't really matter anymore. Believe me when I tell you that this purchase will not even be noticeable."

She opened her mouth and closed it again. She knew Sherlock wasn't that rich, that was his reason for getting a flatmate in the first place. Was Mycroft that wealthy? She knew the way he dressed was expensive, but she found it hard to believe that he wouldn't have noticed if 3000.00 just vanished from his account. "Money doesn't matter to me. We never had much and I was very happy."

Mycroft looked at her, face blank as if he was trying to read her. He was doing that way more often than Sherlock did and it made her stomach uneasy, as if he was trying to see all the way to her soul.

She looked away after a second, trying to avoid his scrutinizing look.

"Are you ever going to mention it?" He asked quietly after a while.

She looked at him, he was scrolling own on his phone. "Mention what?"

He looked up to her with a small sad smile. "What you said on the phone, when I called you the other night. I can't deny you are much sharper than I thought you were."

She was sure it was a compliment, even if it was wrapped in an insult. She shook her head, not trusting her voice.

"I won't hurt you." he said, and she didn't miss the sadness in his voice.

"I know you won't but I still won't ask."

"And why is that?" He asked, genuinely intrigued.

"My father always said not to ask questions you were not sure you wanted the answer to, and I believe this is one of those times."

He smiled and shook his head. "You're really something else, aren't you?"

"Maybe... Is that a bad thing?"

"I'm not sure yet." Mycroft sighed. "You may not understand how or why I do what I do. You might not agree, but believe it or not, everything I am doing is for the good and safety of our nation, of our government. If I stopped believing in that, there are many things I wouldn't do."

She nodded. "I was not asking."

"I know, but I still wanted to say that."

"We've reached our destination, sir." said the driver through a microphone.

Mycroft reached for Molly's hand. "Ready for the circus?"

Molly sighed and forced a smile. She took his hand. "As ready as I will ever be."


	6. Chapter 6

**A.N: **Hello my Mollcroft friends!

I made a video to promote this story! If you want to it is sort of 'spoilery' but if you want to give it some love it's on Youtube type "Mollcroft" and you will see the "Unexpectedly Expectant" video.

Anyways thanks again for all the love and support you're giving me. Once again it's your reviews that keep me going.

I still don't own anything

Steffy2106

**Chapter 6:**

Mycroft had to admit Molly wasn't lying. As soon as she got out of the car, she caught her heel and almost fell; but he was holding her tight, maybe tighter than he ought to have. The almost fall didn't look obvious to people, it seemed more as a faltered step.

She looked up at him, visibly mortified. "It's starting quite bad, I'm sorry."

"I told you, I've got you." he smiled down to her. "Plus, preventing a fall and public embarrassment will keep me on my toes and prevent me from getting too bored during this dull event, so I should thank you." Mycroft said in an attempt to ease the atmosphere; this was something foreign to him. He usually enjoyed people being uncomfortable and out of their comfort zone when they were with him. It was giving him the upper hand, and if there was something Mycroft did enjoy was being superior in everything he did. People would think it was wrong, but he found superiority quite intoxicating. With Molly it was different, he wanted her to feel at ease. He didn't want her to be afraid; it was quite unfamiliar for him and he couldn't really explain why it was like that. Maybe it was because it was the first person he ever met who didn't appear to want anything from him, or maybe it was the first person except for John that Sherlock really leaned on.

"_Molly Hooper is my friend; keep her safe, she is more valuable tha__n__ you think." Sherlock had told him before boarding the military plane to Germany. _

"_Ah yes, your friends." Mycroft had said as if it was a swear word. Having friends was so prosaic, so meaningless and above all an illusion. "Why her? What make her so special? She is just a common pathologist of very banal intelligence." _

_Sherlock had shaken his head then. "And you couldn't be more wrong brother. Molly might just be the most selfless, faithful person I __have__ ever met."_

"_Nobody is selfless__, __Sherlock__,__ and everybody__'s__ loyalty can be bought. I know that for a fact." _

_Sherlock had smiled his knowing smile; it was the kind of smile that irritated Mycroft to no end. "Believe what you wish brother; I enjoy seeing you being so wrong." _

_Mycroft had snorted. "We'll never know now__, will__ we? Don't get killed." __h__e had added before getting back into his Bentley. _

If Mycroft was completely honest, the first reason he had to approach Molly Hooper after Sherlock's departure was only to prove him wrong. He didn't like the fact his brother had left thinking he had won. Sherlock might always win with anyone else, but he still had to win against Mycroft; and especially as far as human nature was concerned.

But the more time he was spending with her, the more he started to think that Sherlock had been right. There was a part of Mycroft that actually hoped it was true, even if it would obligate him to reconsider his theory.

He felt Molly stiffen and looked down at her. "What is it?" he asked as they sat in the church.

"Is he who I think he is?" She whispered back.

"I believe so, yes." he said, trying to hide the amusement in his voice.

Molly glared at him before concentrating on the wedding again as the bride was entering the church.

Mycroft was not sure how long the ceremony lasted, he always thought that weddings were a supreme waste of time and money. Two people promising undying love when the statistics showed that 2 marriages out of 3 were ending in divorce didn't make any sense to him. So, as the young couple was making what Mycroft considered the biggest mistake of their lives; he was occupying his mind by reviewing the plans of everything that had to be settled in the next week. Mycroft's main role these days was doing damage control. It was not really his favourite part of the job, but it was always better than leg work, which he despised above anything.

When the church service was over, Molly nudged him back to reality. "Your bored face is quite discreet I have to admit." she said, standing.

Mycroft wrapped his arm around her waist, knowing that the stone floor of the church was a disaster in the making. "Why did you glare at me before?" he asked, trying to get more data on her; he needed more to resolve the Molly Hooper puzzle.

"Because you said it was a wedding without importance."

"And I meant it." he replied, still confused, as they walked toward the reception hall.

"He is from the royal family!" she hissed, gripping the back of his jacket.

"He is only what..." Mycroft quickly reviewed the royal family mentally . "13th in the succession, almost a nobody really."

Molly snorted out loud. "What a loser!" She added sarcastically.

Usually this sound would have irritated Mycroft, this was such a lack of class; but it was Molly and it made him chuckle.

As they waited for the married couple by the hall, Mycroft studied Molly. Her eyes widened when the horse-drawn carriage came in, and he realized that Molly was like every other woman as far as weddings were concerned. When the bride would down, Molly's mouth would open ever so slightly, and her pupils would dilate with envy. At least that was a box in which she fitted; he was started to think that the woman was an alien.

When the bride and groom exited the carriage and walked toward the hall, Mycroft realized he had been wrong about Molly yet again as she didn't follow the couple. As far as she was concerned, the couple didn't even exist, as her eyes were on the two horses pulling the carriage.

Mycroft frowned; he was really starting to get frustrated by the tiny woman by his side. Every guess he took, he was wrong. She was looking at those horses with awe, as if they were mythical creatures. He put her reaction in a corner of his mind, knowing he would ask her about it later.

**MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM**

Molly was not really enjoying the dinner, but kept pretending for Mycroft. There were about 500 guests and they were sitting at the table with two lords and their wives, and some important doctor whose name she didn't catch. But something _was_ obvious to her...Mycroft Holmes was embarrassed by her, which angered her even more, as he was the one who asked her to come with him.

"What do you do, Miss?" asked one of the Lords, just after dessert. .

Molly opened her mouth to answer, but Mycroft rested his hand on top of hers to interrupt her.

"Molly is a very appreciated and eminent pathologist on her way to become head of the department."

That was the last straw. Molly removed her hand not so nicely from under his and forced a smile. "If you'll excuse me."

She grabbed her bag and walked toward the bathroom, but stopped by the open bar. She hadn't planned on drinking, but a glass of white wine really seemed appealing right now.

When she got her glass, she stood by a big plant, trying to hide herself. She should feel bad to leave Mycroft dealing with people, but really he had been an ass since they sat down; she was guilt free.

"What crime did you commit, to be the boogeyman's date to this event?" asked a masculine voice.

She frowned at the man. He was quite young and attractive, but there was something about his haughty face and cocky smirk she didn't like.

"What are you referring to?"

He jerked his head toward Mycroft, who was now standing up talking with two men she didn't know. "Mycroft Holmes, also known as the iceman, did you know that?"

"I didn't do anything and I am quite happy to be here with him, he is not an iceman" she replied vehemently. Where did this strong sense to defend Mycroft even come from?

"And you are so happy that you're hiding behind a plant. Yea..."

Molly glared. She got found out and she knew it.

She turned toward the bar, trying to show him his presence was not appreciated.

"Oh come on, don't take it like that; I-"

"I think you should walk away now Byron, clearly the lady doesn't appreciate your presence and we both know it's never good to get on Mycroft's bad side, don't we?" said another masculine voice.

She turned around with a sigh of relief. "Thank you, I- Blimey!" She squeaked wide eyed, as she immediately recognized the tall man standing in front of her.

The man chuckled. "This reaction never gets old."

"You are-" She started looking around as if she was dreaming.

"Indeed."

"Oh my god!"

He cocked his head to the side. "No, not quite, that would be my Grandmother."

"It's just- How can you be you?"

"I don't know, I just am."he replied, visibly amused. "What's your name?"

"Molly."

"Well Molly, my name is Harry. It's been nice to meet you." he said, extending his hand.

"I know." she said, shaking his hand.

"Cocky much?" he asked, his eyes full of laughter.

She replayed the scene in her head and wanted to die on the spot. It was one thing to embarrass herself in front of Mycroft, he already thought she was quite dim; but this was another story.

"Oh your Highness, I'm sorry." She stuttered, she was no used to this crowd and part of her just wished she could run away.

Harry waved his hand. "Don't trouble yourself and please just call me Harry. I am not here in any official capacity, plus I am only 4th in the succession to the throne. No need to make a fuss." The way he said that led her to think he had heard the conversation she had with Mycroft.

She cleared her throat and took a long sip of wine, trying to give herself some courage. "Well, thank you again for helping me. "

"You are welcome" he replied, burying his hand in his tuxedo pants pocket. "But I did it more for his sake than yours to be honest. Mycroft Holmes is quite territorial and I noticed the daggers he was throwing in Byron's direction. Byron is quite daft, but he would have regretted it, believe me."

She was about to dismiss it, telling him that Mycroft was just a friend and probably wouldn't care if she was tumbled by the whole royal family in the middle of the table, but she reminded herself that she was supposed to play a part, and simply smiled.

"Do you know Mycroft?" She asked.

"Who doesn't really?" Harry laughed. "Usually when he comes for you it's to do damage control, which is far from being a good thing. I apologize, I'm being called over" he said, pointing to the young bride and groom. "It was nice to meet you, Molly."

"You, too" she said, looking at him walk through the crowd to make a speech. She shook her head, ordering a second glass of wine. She had just spoken with Prince Harry... Her cousin Beth would never believe her! If she did, she would probably hate Molly for not taking a picture, or getting his autograph, or something.

She sighed before going back to meet Mycroft, who was now standing by the wall in the back of the room.

"I see you're making friends" Mycroft said as she stood beside him.

She looked up to him, but he was looking straight ahead. If she didn't know any better she would have thought she heard jealousy in his tone.

"Yea, well at least they let me speak for myself."

"Ah... So this is the reason for your anger." he replied so evenly that she wanted to kick him in the shins as hard as she could. He didn't seem sorry or even bothered about it.

She sat on an empty chair, as she was not used to standing in such high heels, and she was surprised when Mycroft followed suit and sat beside her.

"You shouldn't be upset, you don't know these people; but I do- they would have eaten you alive. They may look harmless, but believe me they are cobras waiting to strike and poison you."

"So you're not ashamed of who I am?"

Mycroft looked at her as if she had lost her mind. "What on the bloody earth would lead you to think that?"

Molly shrugged. The wine was loosening up her tongue, and she realized she might have made a mistake when she decided to get a third glass. "You played dress up with me, you don't let me speak...You're lying about who I am."

Mycroft sighed, rolling his eyes. "I didn't play dress up- and I certainly didn't do it because I was embarrassed by you. Believe me, Molly, you were not my only option; nor do I see you as a charity case. I thought it would be enjoyable for you, which would make it less dull for me. I bought you this dress because I didn't want you to feel out of place. You could have come in your blue jeans and ugly pink cat sweater for all I care."

She was about to ask him how he knew about the pink cat sweater, but thought better of it.

"As for speaking in your place; I didn't want to give them material to attack you, knowing it could be the only way to actually attack me."

"Will it?" she asked, her heart beating a bit faster.

"Well no, not really; but they think you're my date, remember- and they believe in love." he laughed. "Human error."

She looked at him, wide-eyed. "Oh, you are Sherlock's brother, all right." she mumbled.

"I wanted to keep you safe, nothing more; and if I have to apologize for that…Well that won't happen."

She smiled a little. "I guess getting an apology from a Holmes is mission impossible."

Mycroft lips quirked up.

"Let's play 'imagine what is' " she said, after a few minutes of silence.

"And what is that?" he asked, clearly humouring her.

"You find a person and try to figure what they are. Take her, for example" she said, pointing to an old lady with tight clothes. "She is a widow that is trying to find a new man."

Mycroft sighed indulgently. "No, her husband is cheating on her with a much younger woman; she is just trying to make him notice her."

Molly frowned. "That's kind of sad; do you know her?"

Mycroft shook his head. "No, it's all a puzzle, once you can see it, there is no more surprise."

Molly rested her hand on Mycroft's forearm. "Will you teach me?" She wanted to be able to read people a little more and Mycroft in particularly.

"Teach you how to see the puzzle in everything?" He shook his head. "They're everywhere once you really start looking, but once you start, it's impossible to stop. It just so happens, people and all their deceits and illusions that inform everything that they do tend to be the most intriguing puzzles of all. Of course, they don't always appreciate being seen as such."

"It seems to be a lonely way to live." she replied, finally understanding one of the reasons he might be friendless.

"Everything comes with a price, Molly." He emptied his glass of scotch. "Nothing in this world is free." He looked at her.

"And did you figure out what mine is?"

"For the most part; although some pieces are still missing. For example, I am quite perplexed as to why you were more awed by the horses than the bride."

"Oh… You noticed that?"

He gave her a look that seemed to say 'give me more credit'.

She sighed. "It is stupid, really. My mother died when I was 9 and my dad had a hard time taking care of me. The money was quite sparse but my father's boss was a very nice man. Every summer for the next four years, he took us along with him to his summer home." She smiled at the memory. "He told my dad it was because he needed someone to do the maintenance when he was there. It was not true of course, but it was his way to offer me some holidays without bruising my father's ego. He had horses at the summer place. I loved those horses and the ones out there with the carriage looked just the same."

"Why did you do it for four years only?"

She shrugged. "Oh, the man died and I guess his son didn't really see things the same way." she smiled. "It's okay, my life was good."

" Well, I think I did my duty. Are you ready to go?" asked Mycroft.

She nodded, and took his hand as he helped her up.

She didn't realize how tired she was; but it seemed she was in the car for only 5 minutes when Mycroft nudged her awake.

"We are at your address."

Molly opened her eyes and winced at her position. The next day would be quite hard, for her neck felt very stiff, she knew that already. "I'm sorry" she said sheepishly. "I was not very good company."

Mycroft shook his head before helping her out of the car. "You were the best company, Molly, do not doubt that." He walked her back to the door.

"I had a great time." she said as they reached the door.

Mycroft chuckled. "Now you're not being honest with me, but I appreciate the sentiment." He bowed slightly. "I shall be on my way, I have work to do. Have a good night, Molly."

Molly turned around, and followed him with her eyes as he went back to his car. She sighed and walked into her house. The day had been rocky but she had a good time, and she enjoyed Mycroft's company much more than she had expected.

As weirdly as it seemed, she started to think that Mycroft could become a friend.


	7. Chapter 7

**A.N: **Hey Mollcroft fans!

Thanks for all the reviews, I was so happy with your responses and tried to reply to every single one of them. I adore writing this story and love Mollcroft!

I am really enjoying this journey, please let me know what you think.

Steffy2106

**Chapter 7**

Mycroft was sitting in his favorite chair in the Diogenes club. Usually, a good book, a glass of 15- year-old Scotch, and the spot by the fireplace on a wet and rainy day was enough to take his mind off everything that was bothering him - except today. It had been more than a week since the wedding and yet he couldn't get Molly Hooper out of his mind. She was not like anybody he ever met, and that aggravated him. Usually he met people and put them in the back of his mind easily, but not this time. Whenever his mind was not preoccupied by an important work problem, she popped up out of thin air.

He sighed, closing the book loudly, and earning a glare from some of the men in the room. He rolled his eyes, taking hold of his glass and going to an office that was always at his disposal.

He reached for his phone and reluctantly pushed speed dial #1.

"What can I do sir?" asked his PA, after the first ring.

Mycroft sighed. "What do you think of her?" he asked, surrendering to his curiosity.

She was silent for a long while. "Are you requesting my input now?"

Mycroft nodded before realizing she couldn't see him. "I asked you, didn't I?" Mycroft was good at defining people and what they represented, but his PA had a gift. She was a good judge of character, she had been of great assistance in many cases over time. This was also why he was more indulgent with her than he was with anyone else.

"Very well; if you ignore her horrendous sense of fashion and style, her complete lack of care for herself; she is one of a kind." she said, and Mycroft didn't miss the fondness in her voice.

Mycroft frowned - since when his PA was anything but cold? "What?"

She chuckled, to his surprise. "I know, if you would have asked me at first I would have told you she was just a goody two shoes, weak and tasteless, a spineless woman with zero personality. I couldn't have been more wrong. She is brave and obviously cares a bit too much about others, even if it is to her detriment. She doesn't think twice about the way she looks because it's not something she cares about. As strange as it seems to you and I; she truly believes that the inside matters more than anything. As far as I can tell she is honest, and faithful and protective…" She laughed. "and very funny, even if it is in spite of herself."

Mycroft smiled, his PA was spot on. "Well if I didn't know any better, I would say you are crushing."

"Well, if you don't want her, I wouldn't mind trying to get her on my team." she said playfully.

Mycroft knew she was joking and yet something stirred in his stomach, he really didn't like the idea of anyone going after Molly. She might just be his only chance to make a friend; he was not ready to let this slide. His once antisocial brother seemed to enjoy having friends, Mycroft wanted to try to experience that, too. This didn't have to mean anything; he wanted to approach this friendship thing on an experience level nothing more. "Yes, you can if you want but not right now okay? I still need her for a while and I don't want her broken."

"Is there anything else you need?"

"I… Yes, please check her schedule and find out if she is working the week end coming… If she is, do what you need to do to clear her, and please inform Mrs. Linder we'll have a guest for the week end."

"A guest? At the Holmes estate?" she asked with clear surprise.

"Yes …" He trailed off. "Is there anything wrong with that?"

"No, it's just, I have been working for you for almost 6 years now, and you have never, to the best of my knowledge, invited anyone."

"Well, I guess there is a first time for everything, isn't there?" Mycroft asked. "Let me know when it's all arranged." he added before disconnecting the call.

**MMMMMMMMMMMMMM**

Molly was half way through dictating her last autopsy report of the day when her phone rang from a "blocked" number, and her heart involuntarily accelerated when she deduced who it was.

"Ms. Hooper, am I catching you at a bad time?"

She smiled involuntarily "No, I was just finishing- but a part of me thinks you knew that already."

Mycroft chuckled "Maybe I did, but that's a trade secret." he added.

He sounded teasing! Was Mycroft Holmes teasing her? Molly looked at her phone like it was about to tell her something about him before putting the phone back to her ear. "I thought we were on a first name basis, Mr. Holmes." she said, putting the emphasis on his title.

"You're right, I apologize, Molly."

Molly smiled even brighter when she heard a smile in his voice. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you had any plans for the week end."

Her shoulders slumbered a bit, she sighed. "Sadly yes, I have to work all week end."

"What if I told you that you're not actually working the week end?"

"I would tell you that is impossible. I know the schedule." she shook her head.

"I know it better."

She let out a sigh of frustration, looking in the direction of the board where her schedule was posted. "I know you Holmes' think you know everything but –"She stopped talking when she saw the name of another pathologist on the board. "How did you do that?" she whispered.

"I wish it was my doing, but it was my assistant's…and she doesn't like to reveal her secrets."

Molly rolled her eyes.

"So now let me reiterate the question: Do you have plans for the week end?"

Molly sat in her chair and smiled. "Maybe I do now, you know. Since my schedule just freed, I might have to do things I was planning to do."

"Well if you feel like doing so, please do; but I was about to make you an invitation that you wouldn't want to miss."

Molly leaned her elbow on the desk and rested her cheek in her hand. "I'm listening."

"Well, I wanted to know if you would like to come spend the week end at the Holmes estate. It's in the countryside and the weather should be pleasant."

Molly's jaw went slack; she never expected something like that. Even in a million years, she wouldn't have expected something like that. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Why would he invite her for a full week end in the first place? Did he think she was stupid enough to sleep with him? She knew Sherlock was not attracted by sex, but nothing led her to think that Mycroft was the same. For all she knew, he could be some kind of sexual fetishist with a dungeon, like in that "50 shades" book that scarred her for life.

"I have been too forward. I'm sorry if my invitation made you uncomfortable. I just thought you might enjoy a few days out of London, but perhaps I was mistaken. Just forget I ever off-" he began.

"No, no!" _Come on Molly he is Sherlock brother! He could have make a pass on you time and time again he has always been nothing more than a gentleman to you and if he was into crazy shit he has clearly enough money to pay professionals for that!_ "Yes, I'd like to, it's just, I never thought you were enjoying my company."

"I never thought I would" he admitted wearily, and instead of being hurt, his bluntness made her smile, reminding her of Sherlock.

"So…about the week end, is the offer still on the table?" If she were going to break down a part of his walls and show him friends were a good thing, she had to spend time with him.

"I am nothing if not constant, Molly; so yes, my offer still stands."

Molly nodded before realizing he was not there. "I'll be happy to join you."

"Very well then, I shall have all the details ready for you soon. A driver will be at your home by 10am on Saturday morning. Will this be satisfactory?"

"Yes, I look forward to it."

"See you then." he replied, hanging up.

**MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM**

"So did she say yes?" asked Anthea, coming into his office with a tea tray.

"Indeed she did." Mycroft replied.

Anthea put the tea on his desk and went behind him to look at the computer screen. She smiled, seeing Molly sitting in her office chair. He was connected to the morgue CCTV cameras. "Did you have to look at her at the same time?"

"Not that it is any of your business, but you know very well that body language and facial expression speak louder than a 1000 words." He replied closing his laptop.

"And what did she say?"

"She said she was happy to join me." he answered, still incredulous.

"And what did she mean?"

Mycroft mouth curved in a half smile. "You were right- she is brave, everything about her showed her uncertainty."

"Then why did she accept?" Anthea asked.

"I believe that it's a leap of faith." Mycroft said.

"And what do you intend to do, sir?"

Mycroft smile widened. "I intend to prove her right."


	8. Chapter 8

**A.N:** Hello Mollcroft fans.

Once more I am speechless with the response to this story. I tried to reply to every individual review, thanks again to all of you, you are truly keeping me going.

Anyways I loved writing this chapter I sure hope you are going to enjoy reading it and leave me a little (or big) review to let me know.

A huge thanks to Joan for taking the time to proofread my chapter.

I don't own Sherlock.

Steffy2106

**Chapter 8: **

Molly was reviewing her small travelling bag over again to make sure she didn't forget anything, but to be honest she wasn't even sure what she was supposed to bring for a week end in the country in someone 's estate… Hell, if Molly remembered correctly, she never even went to a country week end before.

Even the Jeans, Grey wool sweater and bikers' black leather boots outfit almost caused her a nose bleed.

The driver was at her door sharply at the designated time and reached for her bag. "Please settle comfortably, the drive shouldn't be long, about 25 minutes depending on traffic."

"And where are we going?" Molly asked.

The driver looked at her strangely from the mirror. It was true that it was not the smartest thing for her to get into a car without knowing the destination.

"The estate is just outside of Wembley." he replied.

Molly nodded, concentrating on the landscape until they stopped in front of giant iron gates.

Molly moved in her seat to look out of the window and saw a house in the distance.

After the gates opened and as the car approached Mycroft's home her eyes widened. This was not a house; it was a manor! It was like entering Downton Abbey.

When the car parked in front of the stairs Molly saw an older woman opening the door.

"You must be Miss Hooper." she said, coming down the stairs.

Molly nodded once, still in shock at seeing such a huge house.

"It's very nice to meet you!" she said, and Molly found the extra enthusiasm quite surprising. "I'm Ms. Linder, the head housekeeper here. Please let me take your bag to your room. Just wait for Mr. Holmes here, he should be out in an instant." she added, walking in the house and showing Molly to a very comfortable sitting room."

Molly sat looking around the room. It was bright and tasteful, a lot like the set of a Victorian movie. She couldn't help but wonder how much money Mycroft really had, but this thought was making her very uncomfortable. She knew he was already better than her in just about anything, she didn't need to know how wealthy he really was.

She was contemplating a painting on the wall while wondering if it was a real Monet when the door to Mycroft's office opened.

Mycroft was dressed casually (well, casually for Mycroft Holmes, which probably didn't mean much.) He was wearing brown khakis and an egg shell button up shirt rolled up to the elbow along with a silk vest the same shade as his trousers, but at least it was not a suit and he was tie-free, so Molly presumed it was as casual as Mycroft Holmes could ever get.

"Ah, Molly- sorry, it seems that work is always in the way."

Molly stood and shook her head. "No, no it's okay; it gave me the time to look at this room, it's beautiful. This copy of _The Cliff Walk at_ _Pourville_- is remarkable."

Mycroft had a half smile. "Whoever told you it was a copy? "

"It has to be! This masterpiece is worth..." she sighed. "You know what, let's drop it."

"Let me give you a tour." he said gesturing for her to exit the room.

The house was huge and decorated with lots of taste. There was a full library, two salons, an immense kitchen in which Molly could only dream to cook in, 6 bedrooms all en-suite, a gym and many other room she couldn't remember.

"It has to be lonely" she told him as they would in the back garden.

"What is?"

"To live in such a huge house all alone."

"I enjoy solitude, Molly. and I have to be honest - with my job, I'm not even often here."

She opened her mouth to ask him why he bought it, then realized it was none of her business.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked as they exited the house by the back. If Molly thought the front garden was huge, the back was at least twice that size.

"I know you are going to enjoy what I am about to show you." Mycroft said with a little mysterious smile.

When they turned the corner, her breath caught in her throat when she saw a beautiful black stallion in a paddock.

"He is beautiful" she whispered in a complete awe, walking toward the horse as if hypnotized.

"That's about the reaction I was expecting…. I'm glad you like it." Mycroft replied.

"What is his name?" Molly asked, stopping by the paddock gate.

"Loki."

Molly turned and smiled toward the horse. "May I go see him?"

"Of course!" Mycroft gestured invitingly toward the horse.

Mycroft looked at Molly walk toward the horse, and couldn't help but smile, seeing how happy he was making her.

"Hi, beautiful" Molly whispered when she reached the stallion. "Why did you call him Loki?" she asked,

scratching the mane of the black horse.

"Because he is the god of mischief." said Mycroft, leaning on the barrier. "Be careful, this one is tricky."

"Nonsense!" said Molly, turning toward Mycroft. "I'm sure you are inventing it all" she said in a joking tone.

At this moment Loki decided to push her, and made her fall flat on her bum.

"You traitor! I was defending your honor, and you betrayed me!"

She turned to Mycroft, who was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes; and it was like she was seeing him for the first time.

He was completely average for his age, but all the things that others saw just gave him character. His bumpy nose intrigued her, how did it happen? His thinning hair, did it run in his family and what was his family like? His eyes, the color so normal, hypnotized her with their secrets. He wasn't a twenty-something Greek god or somebody you would find in a romance novel, but that was part of the appeal for Molly. He was average. And for her, right at this moment, he was perfect.

Molly chuckled too as Mycroft came into the paddock and helped her up.

"You know, it is annoying; I feel like a movie star." she said, dusting off her trousers.

Mycroft chuckled and looked at Molly with an eyebrow raised. "I'm lost here. First, why on earth would you be annoyed to feel like a movie star? And secondly, where did this random thought come from? I seem to have trouble following your train of thought sometimes."

"Ah yea..." Molly blushed, looking down at her fidgeting feet. "I didn't mean it that way it's just..." she sighed. "I don't have a filter- it seems that every thought I have just comes out of my mouth like verbal diarrhea." Her blush deepened. "And here I am doing it again. I'm sure you find that annoying."

"I thought I would, but I don't." He cleared his throat. "It is quite charming actually."

Molly looked up surprised by his words, but he continued as if he had never stopped.

"Care to explain what you mean by that?"

"What? Oh yes!" Molly tried to brush off the 'charming' comment. "It seems like you know everything about me, even more than I know myself, and I don't know anything about you. It's like when a movie star meets one of his fans, they know all about him and he doesn't know anything about them."

"So you're saying I am a fan of yours?"

Molly looked at him, crimson now. "No of course not! I mean..." She saw the laughter in his eyes. "You are messing with me!" she said, slapping his arm playfully.

Mycroft gave her a full smile now. God, she would start to become addicted to this true smile devoid of his usual coldness and haughtiness. "It's just so easy." He gestured toward the house. "Let's go back, dinner will be served soon." He gently rested his hand on her elbow while they were walking back toward the house. "So how can we remedy this? What I know cannot be unknown."

"Then tell me some things." Molly said.

"There are many things I can't tell you."

Molly nodded. "Oh I know, and I am okay with that, I understand what you do, when it is classified. No, I mean random things, anything."

"Okay..." Mycroft seemed to be thinking for a while "When Sherlock was 8 he wanted to be a pirate; he even called our dog Red Beard."

"Umm, okay?"

Mycroft stop walking before they reached the house. "I thought you wanted me to share?"

"Yes I did but no offense to Sherlock, I liked it and all that, but I want to know about you."

"Well, that would be a first" said Mycroft evenly, but she didn't miss the honest surprise in his face.

"There is a first for everything right?" Molly asked.

Mycroft nodded. "I suppose. Umm, okay..." He rested his hand on her elbow again as they were walking into the house. "I went to Oxford University at age 16, I was slightly advanced when I obtained a Law Degree at 19. I took a Masters in Political Science and War Strategy which I passed summa cum laude by age 21- and the rest is classified."

Molly looked at him wide eyed; he said that like it was nothing, like it wasn't even such an achievement.

People really had to be goldfishes for him.

"Okay..." she nodded. "Then tell me something nobody else knows." she said as they sat at the table where the starters were waiting.

"See that wouldn't be fair, now would it?" he asked lightly.

"Why?"

"Because I don't know anything like that about you."

Molly snorted. "Please, I'm sure you know all my secrets."

Mycroft sighed. "See, that is the thing- I know facts about you, yes...I know where you were born, I know about your parents, I know your grades at University, I know all about the brilliant papers you wrote" He shrugged. "I could check your medical record" he raised his hand quickly "which I didn't, and would never do, I swear on my honor. But these things don't really tell me who you are as a person. For example, the horses story gave me more insight than everything the government has on you."

Molly looked at him, and part of her couldn't help but dislike that he knew all that about her. This was her private life. There was no secret she could keep from him, nothing would stay personal. It was giving her a weird feeling of being under a microscope 24/7; when he was probably the most secretive man on the planet, a real James Bond... His middle name was probably "Classified". "What's your middle name?" she asked him, not really expecting an answer.

"Charles." he replied without even thinking, which surprised Molly. She didn't expect him to share so freely, and Mycroft probably understood her surprise because he gave her a small smile. "I am not keeping things secrets from you by choice. If you want to know anything and I am not breaching any rule or protocol by telling you, I will more than gladly share things with you."

Molly felt a wave of pleasure fill her at his words. She knew that Mycroft, just like Sherlock, was not a sharer, and it gave his statement much more weight.

"Thank you."

He bowed his head. "My pleasure."

"How old are you?"

"43."

Molly smiled. She was pleased to have deduced this one; she had figured that Mycroft was about 10 years older than her.

"I'm 33" she replied.

He smiled even wider. "I know."

"Oh yeah... of course you do." Molly looked down at her plate.

"How are you enjoying your soup?"

She smiled. "Delicious, thanks." They ate in silence for a few minutes before Molly set the spoon beside her plate. "Just tell me something embarrassing. I mean, I made a fool of myself in front of you quite a few times- I think I deserve something."

Mycroft looked at her for a second as the main course was served. "Fine, but if you ever tell anyone..."

Molly rested one hand on her heart and raised the other. "I swear I won't."

"My favorite color is green."

"Oh yea... That is so embarrassing..."

Mycroft chuckled. "Oh that's not the embarrassing part, the reason behind it is. You see, when I was a child I was pretty solitary. Most things for my age group I considered as boring, but there was one thing I really liked, and never told my parents as I thought they would consider it childish." Mycroft nodded, "In retrospect, I think it would have comforted them to know. I would have seemed somehow normal to them. Anyway, I have to admit I was very fond of Kermit the Frog and this is why I love green. He looked up and frowned. "You're not mocking me."

"No, why would I? I find this story very cute. You allow the world to think you're a heartless robot," she told him. "And you're not."

He laughed once, his eyebrows lifted in surprise. "No," he says. "I'm afraid I'm just the regular kind of robot."

"But why—why would you pretend to be so cold?" she asked. "Why do you allow people to treat you that way?"

He sighed, pushing his rolled-up shirtsleeves above his elbows again. Molly couldn't help but follow the movement, her eyes lingering along his forearms. She realized, for the first time today, despite his creamy white skin and freckles that he did sport some scars, and she couldn't help but wonder what caused them.

"What difference does it make?" he stated. "People can think whatever they like. I don't desire their validation."

"So you don't mind," Molly insisted, "that people judge you so harshly?"

"I have no one to impress," he replied. "no one who cares about what happens to me. I'm not in the business of making friends, Molly. My job is to protect this Nation, and it's the only thing I'm good at. No one," he says, "would be proud of the things I've accomplished. My parents don't even know me anymore. My brother thinks I'm pathetic. My employees fear me. The world is going to hell. And the conversations I have with you are the longest I've ever had."

"What—really?" Molly asked, eyes wide.

"Really."

"I don't know how to reply to that." Molly answered truthfully.

"There is nothing to say, I'm simply stating a fact." he replied.

"Do you want to go have tea in the library?" Mycroft asked as they finished dinner.

"Sure!" Molly didn't tell Mycroft, but the library was probably her favorite room in the house.

They sat across from each other by the fireplace, sharing random things, such as their favorite books, while enjoying their tea. They were little things, much less than Molly wanted to know, but she could be satisfied with that, at least for now.

Molly stifled a yawn but Mycroft didn't miss it. He looked down at his watch. "It's getting late."

"No, it's okay- sorry. It was just a long week and…" she began.

"Of course, please go and rest. I have some work to do anyway."

Molly smiled, standing up. "You live for your work, don't you?"

Mycroft stood as well. "Sadly, yes." He gestured her toward the stairwell. "I will see you in the morning,

Molly."

"Yes, thank you." Molly walked up a few steps but turned around and went back down, stopping two steps from the bottom of the staircase so she was the same height as Mycroft. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "I… thank you again for this day; it was one of the best I've ever had." she blushed at her own boldness. "Goodnight" she added, swirling around and going to her room.

Mycroft kept his eyes fixed on her back, bringing his fingers to his cheek where she had kissed him, as if her lips had left a burning imprint there. "Goodnight, Molly" he replied, walking toward to his office.


	9. Chapter 9

**A.N:** Hey Mollcroft fan!

So here is chapter 9, it was very hard for me to write and make sure I stay in character. Again a huge thanks to all my readers I tried to answer to every review except the anonyms which I still appreciate more than I can say.

For you who are reading my Sherlolly story "_Double Cross_" I am not forgetting the story I just got a bit delayed in the writing of the story sorry about that.

Anyways don't forget to review I love reading you!

Steffy2106

**Chapter 9:**

On the Sunday morning, Molly was disappointed to find out that Mycroft had to leave.

"_He apologized and said that you can stay for as long as you'd like. James will drive you back whenever you're ready"_ the housekeeper had told her when she served her breakfast.

Molly realized that she didn't want to enjoy this big house without Mycroft, and left as soon as she was done with breakfast.

It had now been three days and she hadn't heard anything from him, not that he owed her anything, but she was really getting frustrated about this one-sided friendship. She didn't have a number where she could reach him. What was she supposed to do; stand in front of a CCTV camera with a cardboard saying 'I just want to make sure you're doing okay'? That would be taking pathetic to a whole new level. Her second option would have been to ask John for Mycroft's number. This again was an option she didn't even want to consider unless she was ready for a three-hour lecture on the danger of being associated with Mycroft. In the end, John would probably tell her no at the end 'for her own good'.

No, her only real option was to just wait, and when she saw him the next time she would give him a piece of her mind.

Molly sighed, falling heavily on her sofa. Who was she trying to fool? She would back down as soon as she saw him. She was just hurt that the weekend didn't have the same effect on him than it had on her. She had thought they had shared something, maybe not anything deep or romantic but she still had believed that they created some kind of bond, a friendship. His leaving without a word for a few days led her to understand that the feeling had not been mutual. Was it because she kissed him on the cheek? She knew she shouldn't have done it, and yet…

"You're a sucker, Molly Hooper." she chastised herself, deciding to have a pity party. Junk food, high sugar intake, and a sappy movie were what the situation required.

She went to her freezer and got the cookie dough ice-cream. She opened her drawer and reached for a teaspoon.

"Nah." She reached for the soup spoon. She put it on the table, called for a pizza and put _Love Actually_ in the player before settling on the sofa.

She was about 15 minutes into the movie when the bell rang.

"Be right there" she tried to articulate, with her mouth full of ice cream. Molly jumped up from the sofa, reached for her bag and opened the door, the spoon still in her mouth. She froze, then removed the spoon from her mouth. "You're not the usual pizza guy" she said to Mycroft, who was standing in front of her, pizza in hand.

"No I'm not." He gave her a tentative smile. "I bribed him in order to deliver it myself. I thought you wouldn't be too angry at me for leaving on Sunday if I was the food bearer."

"That's not why I'm upset" she said, moving out of the way letting him in. Molly was still so surprised to see him standing at her door that she didn't even feel embarrassed standing in front of him in her pink flannel pyjamas and crooked side ponytail.

Mycroft put the pizza on the table and turned toward her as she closed the door. "Why are you upset?"

"I'm not upset" she lied, reaching for the ice cream container on the table to put it back into the freezer.

"You're eating ice cream before pizza?" he asked from behind her.

"Before, after, during. Why does it matter? It will all mix in my stomach anyway."

"It's unnatural."

She shrugged, opening the pizza box and putting a slice on a napping. "Help yourself, there is way too much for me." she said, going back to her spot on the sofa.

"Why are you upset?" he asked again, reaching for a slice of pizza.

Molly had to do her best to contain her smile, seeing how awkwardly he was reaching for the slice of pizza. She was sure that he had never eaten anything straight from a box like that, and if he ever had pizza it was probably with a fork and knife.

"What are you watching?" he asked, sitting on the armchair beside her.

She had to give him credit, he didn't even cringe about sitting there when it was obvious the chair was covered with Toby's hair. She remembered the black car outside and felt bad for the driver.

"I'm watching Love Actually. You don't have to stay you know, I told you I was not upset. Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked frowning, visibly displeased.

"No…You can stay and watch if you want." she replied, reaching for her remote.

"Tell me why you are upset, so I know how I can make it better." he asked and her heart melted. He sounded so helpless, like a child.

She sighed. "There is nothing to 'make better.' I am not upset for your leaving. I might not know what your work is, but I know it's more important than anything. It's just-" Molly shook her head.

"Just what?" he encouraged.

"No. I promise it's stupid, I shouldn't have said anything." she tried, blushing.

"Humor me."

She sighed, turning toward the TV and looking at the paused screen. "Well, I didn't have any way to contact you to know if you were okay. That's what friends do, you know? We worry about each other, and you left like that and I didn't even hear anything from you for 4 days, so I mean was worried." She shrugged. "But , you and I, we're barely friends, I shouldn't have expected anything. I just-"

"You're right, I should have given you a call. That wasn't very thoughtful of me." Mycroft said, bowing his head slightly.

Molly couldn't stay mad, she knew he had never had friends before. Mycroft was all about protocol, but he was as naive as could be on the friendship level. He didn't know any better.

She smiled at him. "It's all right, I promise."

He nodded with a small smile, but she could see subtle signs of tension easing.

"Don't you find this actor looks quite identical to John Watson?" he asked, concentrating on the frozen screen.

"Martin Freeman?" She shook her head. "Nope, I don't see it."

Molly watched the movie, very aware of Mycroft's presence and doing her best not to tear up at her favourite parts. She couldn't stop the tears from falling at the final airport scene when all the real people met at the airport.

"Why are you crying? Isn't this considered a happy ending?" he asked, and he was not mocking. She could see he was genuinely wondering.

"I don't know, it just hit a soft spot. Maybe because….I don't know." Molly replied.

"Why are you watching, if it makes you sad?"

"It's my favourite movie."

"Is it?" Mycroft nodded. "You seemed quite attuned to the Mark character, why is that?"

"How do you know that?" she asked.

"It was written all over your face."

"Were you watching the movie or were you watching me?"

"Both, I have to admit" Mycroft's cheeks reddened ever so slightly.

"He is my favourite."

" He is the one I have no empathy for. He is a man quite good looking by our society's standards, with quite a decent situation and of moderate intelligence. He could have a lot of women and yet he is settling for the only woman he cannot have?" Mycroft shook his head. "This man is creating his own misery."

"You are seeing it from an empirical point of you. You can't analyze. You cannot rationalize love; it is the most irrational feeling in the world. We have all felt that way, and loved someone we cannot have to the point of making a fool of ourselves. That is why we all have a soft spot for Mark."

"That is what makes love such a dangerous feeling. It takes away every rational thought and leads you to experience the most consuming and destroying emotions such jealousy, shame, rage, grief." Mycroft said.

"I believe that love makes you brave, as it allows you to take risks you never thought you would." Molly replied.

"Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity." Mycroft added, with a smirk.

"Ummm I guess we'll have to agree to disagree." Molly said, standing up to remove the Dvd from the player.

"I guess we will." Mycroft replied.

Molly turned around to ask him if he wanted to watch another movie, but his phone vibrated in his jacket.

Mycroft took it out and looked at the screen before putting it in his pocket again. It was the 4th time it did that since he was here and she knew that it had to be important.

"You have to go." she deduced, trying not to sound disappointed.

Mycroft sighed, standing up. ", unfortunately I cannot delay any longer." Mycroft took a couple of steps toward the door before finally turning toward Molly. "Before I leave-" Mycroft reached in his pocket to retrieve a card and a pen. He scrawled something at the back and extended it to her.

The front had a number printed on it, but no name or anything.

"This is my PA's number. I wrote mine on the back. Now if you want to know how I am doing, you can ask." he smiled, making Molly's heart swell. Mycroft rubbed his neck with clear discomfort.

"Are you okay?" Molly asked, taking a tentative step toward him.

"Yes I just, I just wanted to let you know that I really enjoyed our day Saturday, and… it was actually the most amusing day I have had in a while. Nothing less than a major threat to our national security could have taken me away from you on that weekend."

Molly didn't think he realized the impact of his words. Molly didn't know if it was the turmoil of feelings due to the movie, the ice-cream sugar rush, or maybe just the moment; but she took a couple of steps toward Mycroft. Before even realizing it, she reached up, pulling his face down to hers and connected her lips with his.

Mycroft was frozen for a few seconds before bringing his hands up on Molly's shoulders and pushing her away.

He looked down at her, hands so tight on her shoulder it was almost painful. Molly looked up and saw raging emotions on his face.

Mycroft shook his head and cleared his throat. "Good night, Ms. Hooper." he said, letting go of her and exiting her house as fast as humanly possible.

Molly stood there, her eyes locked on her door for what seemed like forever, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She had been rejected more than once in her life, but it always hurt just the same.

Molly sat heavily on her coffee table as shame mixed with rejection. He wanted a friend and here she was breaking all the self-imposed rules by kissing him.

Molly growled, burying her head in her hands. Why did she have to go and kiss him? She might have ruined his only desire to make a friend. "Why did I do that?" she wondered.

"I'm wondering the same thing. "

She looked up, startled, seeing Mycroft standing in the doorway. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't even heard him come in.

She jumped up from her spot on the table. "Oh Mycroft, I am so sorry; so so sorry."

"What are you sorry about?" he asked, walking in and closing the door behind him.

Molly was taken aback by the question. She opened her mouth and closed it again. What was she sorry for? Kissing him? No, she had wanted that. She was sorry that he didn't want it. She was sorry she probably lost their friendship. "I'm not sure."

Before she could even say anything more, his strong arms were around her, holding her as close as possible. "Molly," he whispered, his face only inches from hers, and the warmth of his breath lit her up like a candle. A rush of heat started in her chest and slowly spread throughout her body, reaching every last limb.

Molly could feel his eyes watching her every move, from the slight twitch of her lips to the way her shoulders rose and fell as she breathed.

Mycroft leaned forward slowly, his hand brushing the hair out of her face. In an instant his lips were on hers. They were a bit dry but smooth, they were perfect. He moved them around in circles and her heart swelled. The soft gentle kiss gradually turned into a deep passionate kiss. His breathing was deep and loud in her ear. She moaned and he did, too.

All of a sudden he stopped and pulled away, but kept his left arm wrapped around her.

"What's wrong?" Molly asked.

"You know, this is stupid." he sighed, resting his forehead against her.

"I know."

"You know I cannot offer the things you dream about." Mycroft added.

"Do you even know what I'm dreaming about?" Molly asked him.

Mycroft smiled sadly. "You know this will never last."

"So let's enjoy it while it does." she whispered, standing on her toes to meet his lips again.

Mycroft's phone started to ring furiously. "I have to go. I am now scandalously late. But- dinner, you and I, next Tuesday?"

She smiled. "It's a date."

Mycroft let go of her waist and kissed her chastely. "You are going to be the death of me, Molly Hooper." he added with defeat, before leaving her house once more.


	10. Chapter 10

**A.N:** Hello My Mollcroft fans!

Firstly thank you so so much for the reviews. I tried to reply to each of you individually, you are just so special to me, always bringing a smile to my face.

This chapter is a bit of a filler but it is a necessary evil next chapter will be explosive I promise. A HUGE thanks to Jo for proof reading this chapter.

I still don't own Sherlock or its character.

Please review and let me know what you think!

Steffy

**Chapter 10: **

Molly was in a very good mood for the rest of the week. She knew that Mycroft coming back to her place and kissing her the way he did was a huge step for him, maybe one of the biggest he ever took on such a personal level; and she couldn't help but smile to herself.

"What are you smiling for?" asked her friend Jane, as they were shopping during their lunch break.

"Why wouldn't I? It's a beautiful day and I get to do some shopping with a good friend, it's a good day!"

"Okay…." Jane trailed off. "Except that I have been asking you to join me for shopping almost every week for the past two years, and I had little hopes of you ever saying yes."

"Well everything changes." Molly said with a simple shrug. She wanted to share with her friend what had happened with Mycroft, but really what did happen? Just a quick kiss, nothing to get excited about in normal people's books. It was not really newsworthy when you were not in grade school anymore.

Moreover, she was not sure how much she could share about Mycroft. She knew his job and identity were somehow a secret. Well, not really a secret, but it was something he clearly didn't want exposed.

Molly let her eyes wander to a store window, and stopped dead in her tracks, mesmerized. Jane kept on walking a few steps before coming back.

"Earth to Molly, are you with me?" she asked, trying to see where Molly was looking.

"I, yeah… sorry."

"No, it's okay- you looked like you just froze and your brain needed to reboot. Did you see Benedict Cumberbatch or what?" asked Jane with humor.

"No, I saw that." said Molly, pointing to the dress on the mannequin.

"Okay sweetheart, three things-" said Jane, wrapping her arm around Molly's shoulders. "First; the store is Alexander McQueen so unless you won the lottery you better move on. Secondly, why would you need a dress so fancy?" She snorted. "No offence, Molly, but your social life is the one of an 80-year-old woman; and thirdly- it's green, so damn green."

"I like it" replied Molly, crossing the street to get closer to the store.

"Honey, if you wear that thing, you will look like Kermit the Frog's long-lost sister."

"That's the point" Molly replied with a small smile, as if she was sharing a very private joke.

"Okay, so if your point is looking like Kermit, we can do it for much cheaper than that."

"We don't even know the price yet! What if it is pricey? I don't own anything nice. We only live once!" Molly replied, walking into the store.

The two saleswomen looked at her with disdain, and it took all Molly's courage to walk into the store. Molly knew that right now she didn't look like much with her ratty jumper and old pair of pants. Her inexpensive tastes and meagre needs and hobbies were what actually could allow her to buy a scandalously expensive dress today without causing any damage to her bank account.

She believed Mycroft when he told her he didn't care how she dressed, but she also knew they came from two completely different worlds. She had seen it when he had tried to eat the pizza. She had seen it when she stayed at his mansion or when he took her to the wedding. He did buy her a dress and accessories for the occasion and she knew that, even if he did it for her benefit, she didn't want herself to be the source of mockery or judgment when they went to dinner.

"May I help you?" asked one of the saleswoman, coming toward them. Molly clearly heard in her tone the implied 'I think you are in the wrong store'. Luckily for her, Jane always looked like she had stepped out of a fashion magazine. She spent most of her nurse's wages on clothes anyway.

"Indeed you may. I would like to try this dress on" Molly replied, pointing at the dress in the window.

"Ah, yes, I see…" the saleswoman scrutinised Molly from head to toe. "Not sure we have your size…a 12 isn't it?"

Molly stood straighter, trying to pretend the woman's disdain didn't affect her. "10-12 yes, depending on the cut." (10-12 UK is actually a 6-8 US)

"Ah, yes, I will need to check. We do have limited numbers of the larger sizes."

Molly almost wanted to punch the woman in front of her. She hated the fact that she subconsciously tightened her jacket around her. Okay, she was not a bag of bones- but in which universe was a size 12 big?

"Oh, we do have it in a 12…" said the woman by the rack, sounding almost sorry she had found it. "You see, this is the current collection."

"Molly, we'd better go." Jane whispered in her ear.

Molly took a step toward the saleswoman. "I want to try it."

" The dress is £1200. "

Jane gasped but Molly simply shrugged. "So what? I might not look like much but I have more than enough money to buy this dress." she added, losing her cool and patience.

The saleswoman blushed ever so slightly, maybe because Molly had been able to read through her pretence so easily.

Molly grabbed the hanger from the woman's hand. "And where is the changing room?"

The saleswoman pointed mutely in the right direction.

Molly tried the dress and it fitted very well. The side zipper had been a bit hard to close, but the slight tightness had the extra advantage of showing her small breasts to best advantage. It added definition to a barely existing cleavage.

"Can I see?" Jane asked from outside the room.

Molly came out, but she knew that whatever Jane told her, she was going to buy that dress.

Jane nodded with appreciation. "I like it, I actually like it a lot. It does look better with a model that actually has some shape."

Molly snorted. "Are you saying an actual human being?"

Jane laughed too. "And as strange as it seems, even the colour suits you, but-"

"But?" Asked Molly, twirling slowly in front of the mirror.

"It's green, so very green." Jane added, wrinkling her nose with disgust.

"But except for the color, you do like it."

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll buy it." Molly said.

By the time Molly got home that night with the dress, she wanted to call or text Mycroft. A part of her was worried he might not like the interruption. She knew the man was not big for banalities, even if he seemed to make a herculean effort with her.

The day he had kissed her and left, she found out from the news that the Syrian crisis had intensified. There was an emergency meeting organised by the German chancellor and the UK was part of this meeting. Molly hadn't needed any confirmation to figure that Mycroft had been in the special plane designated for the British officials.

She had received a quick email from his PA a couple of days later confirming the date and the time of pick up but nothing since then.

Molly sighed, playing with her phone. She was supposed to see him tomorrow night and she still felt somewhat shy about it. If it had been any other man, she would have texted him but it was a Holmes, and above all Mycroft Holmes (or 'secret agent man' as she liked to call him.)

The next day Molly was fully dressed and ready to go when her phone rang, and her now favourite caller marked "private" appeared on the screen.

She smiled widely as she answered, expecting Mycroft to tell her he was on the way.

"Miss Hooper?"

Molly frowned, not expecting a woman's voice. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry to trouble you, but it's Anthea, Mr. Holmes' PA. "

"Oh hi! Yes, sorry, I didn't recognize you!" Molly said, much cheerier now.

"I'm calling you on behalf of Mr. Holmes. He wanted to apologize but he has to cancel your plans for the evening. " Anthea said.

Molly sat down on her bed, both surprised and angry. "At this time?"

"Yes, I appreciate it's really short notice; but it is something completely out if his control."

"And I presume he was just too busy to call me himself." Molly said, feeling hurt as well as angry.

"I'm sorry?"

Molly shook her head. She knew that Anthea had heard her; she just didn't want to answer. Molly stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. "You know what, it doesn't matter, just-"

"Just what?" Anthea asked.

"Are you sleeping with him?" Molly asked, out of the blue. She didn't even know where the question came from. She knew she should retract it and apologize for even asking it. She had no right to ask her that. Mycroft and she had barely kissed. He had never promised exclusivity- hell, he didn't promise anything at all, except that it was stupid and bound to end. He had been right on both accounts….it actually finished before it had even started.

"I believe it is a question you should ask him." Anthea replied.

Molly nodded. "I would if I could. Well, thank you for calling. Goodbye." Molly added, before disconnecting the call. She was all dolled up, there was no way she was going to sob on her sofa. She decided to call John Watson and go out.

John was more than happy to go out to dinner with Molly.

"You're very pretty! You should have told me you were dressing up, I feel completely out of place now!" said John as he reached the restaurant by Molly's house.

"You look dashing, John, don't be silly," she replied as he pulled her into his usual bear hug.

He chuckled. "I will take your word for it. I've missed you."

"I know, I'm sorry. It's my fault, work has just been insane." she replied as they entered the restaurant. She had missed the four last weekly drinks, mostly due to the hours she had to do in order to have more time off for herself and the little impromptu moments she had been spending with Mycroft. That was something that wouldn't happen anymore. Her phone started to vibrate in the pocket of her jacket. She looked at it and rejected the call that said 'private'. It would be better from now on.

John smiled. "Well, you will be here on Friday, right?"

"Friday?" Molly frowned.

John looked at her as if she had lost her mind" It is the one year anniversary." he said, not able to conceal the sadness in his voice.

Molly cursed herself mentally. She had slipped up. That was an important day for anyone who thought Sherlock had actually died. She nodded." Yes of course, sorry I…Work is something crazy." she replied lamely.

John nodded, but she didn't miss the disappointment in his eyes.

"What is new with you?" she finally asked, trying to get onto something else. Her phone vibrated again. She quickly looked at the screen, rejecting the private call again.

John shrugged. "Not much, I started working for a clinic not too far from my new place."

"Oh that's fantastic! I'm so glad you got back into medicine; you know we could always use a doctor like you at St Bart's. Just say the words and Mike will –" Molly sighed with exasperation as her phone started to vibrate yet again.

"Maybe you should get that." John said nicely, jerking his head toward her pocket.

"No, no I really don't need to-" she said, taking her phone out and turning it off completely.

"Is everything all right, Molly? You know you can tell me anything, right?" John said, reaching for her hand from across the table.

Molly nodded, her heart aching. John had been such a faithful friend, always here for her. Sometimes she felt like a liar and a cheater with him. She opened her mouth, about to reveal the truth about Sherlock, but she knew it would be the ultimate betrayal. Instead she simply smiled and said the only truth she was allowed to say. "I miss him too, you know." And it was true, she missed Sherlock's condescension, his barely hidden vulnerability, his unbelievable naivete. She knew he was alive, but she didn't know if she would ever see him, not after everything that had happened.

John took a deep breath as his eyes filled up with tears. "Me too, sometimes I am in bed at night and I can hear his violin like he is in the next room. It seems so real, except that he is not here and he will never play again. Who would have thought that it was the most irritating things that I would miss the most?"

Molly nodded, knowing only too well what he meant. "I know, when my father passed away what I missed the most was hearing his snoring…Once he was gone, the house was just so quiet, so empty… I realized that his snoring was actually what helped me to sleep."

They were in the middle of their meal when Molly spotted two men in black suits entering the restaurant. One stayed by the door pretending to check a menu, while the other one reached for his cell phone.

"I'll be back in a second," she said to John, before walking toward the toilet. As soon as she was sure John's eyes were not on her any more, she took a sharp left and went to stand by the man holding the menu. "Just tell your boss I'm fine and that if I am not answering it's because I have nothing to say."Molly said quietly.

"Excuse me?" the man asked, apparently dumbfounded.

Molly couldn't deny that he was playing it well. She sighed, shaking her head. "Okay, let's pretend you don't understand and let's pretend I am crazy. Just tell them to back off."

"I'm sorry I have no-"

Molly waved her hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter." By the time she reached her table and sat down, the men were gone. She smiled to herself.

The evening went well otherwise. She actually forgot how she loved to spend time with John. She finally realized it was time to go when she realized the restaurant was empty, and the waiters were waiting for them to leave.

"I really enjoyed the night out, thank you so much! I really needed it." she said sincerely to John as he walked her home.

"You are very welcome, it's good to go out and have a change every once in a while." John said.

"It's so easy with you, you're so normal." she said, almost with regret.

"Normal compared to whom? The Queen of England?" he asked in an attempt to joke with her.

Molly laughed. "Yes, you know Elizabeth and I, it's always something."

John stopped when they reached her door and pulled her into a hug. "So Friday? His favourite fish and chip shop…6:00?"

Molly nodded. "I will be there. Do you want me to call you a cab?" she asked, turning on her phone and seeing 23 missed calls and 3 texts.

John shook his head and gestured to a cab parked not too far from her house. "See you soon."

Molly smiled, going into her house, deleting the texts without even reading them. She had no idea what Mycroft wanted to tell her but she was sure he was not happy with her, and she really didn't feel like dealing with him.

It was clear now that she didn't matter to him, not really. Maybe it was the best he could do. Maybe for him that was his way of caring, but she realized that she had to protect herself. She had been constantly hurt by Sherlock, not voluntarily but it had hurt just the same. A part of her screamed that somehow Mycroft would be hurting her even more.

Molly needed a better instinct of self-preservation, and for the first time she decided to listen to the voice that told her to just stop trying to have any kind of relationship with Mycroft Holmes.


	11. Chapter 11

**A.N:** Hey my Mollcroft fans!  
I truly hope you are going to love this chapter it was very hard for me to write it as I didn't want to disappoint any of you.

A huge thanks to my reviewers and to Joan my beta reader. You all mean so much to me.

Anyways I made it quite long in order to make up for the lateness. Please review and let me know if it meets your expectation.

I still don't own Sherlock or its characters.

Steffy2106

**Chapter 11**:

Molly looked at the clock and huffed once more. She was supposed to be out for a good two hours, but Dr. Miller, the head pathologist, dumped extra work on her as he loved to do.

To be fair, Molly didn't usually mind the extra work. It helped her get her mind off of things, especially the guilt she was feeling for being an instrument of John's pain by helping Sherlock fake his death.

But he was really pushing, abusing her nice side to the limit. Now she was supposed to meet John and Lestrade in less than two hours, and she still had to go home, shower and make her away to the opposite side of the city on a Friday….It seemed to be an impossible mission as it was, and she still had the report to write.

"Never mind" she grumbled, before huffing angrily to get rid of a rebellious strand of hair that kept falling in her face. She closed the file loudly and marched to her boss' office.

As she knocked, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She saw John's name, and put it back in her pocket as her boss said to come in.

She was not even surprised to see him reading a fishing magazine. The man didn't even try to pretend he was busy after dumping this last minute autopsy on her.

"I really have to go" said Molly. "I have plans I cannot cancel, the autopsy is done. I just have the report to write. I am off tomorrow but I will come in for a couple of hour to finish."

Dr. Miller shook his head with what seemed to be a disappointed sigh. "If you must…" he trailed off.

This attitude infuriated Molly even more. "Well, I have the dictation and the file here. If there is some urgency to it you can do it, I won't be offended. I mean, the body did arrive during your shift."

He glared at her, and it took all of Molly's willpower not to smile. He knew she owned him. She also knew he wouldn't fire her; he needed her way too much for that. "No, it's fine, it can wait until tomorrow." he added with a clipped voice.

_Yeah I thought so._ Molly thought. "Thank you." she simply said, before rushing to the locker room.

Her phone started to vibrate again. John was calling her again. She couldn't blame him, she had bailed on him so many times before that, so she couldn't blame him for his lack of faith.

"I am just leaving work now, I swear- I'll be on time." she said breathlessly, as she entered the locker room.

"Molly," said a voice that was most definitely NOT John Watson.

Molly froze on the spot, her hand on her locker door. "Mycroft-" she whispered before looking at the screen again. It did say 'John'. She hated how her heart accelerated with just hearing him say her name.

"It's nice for you to finally answer." he said, and she didn't miss the cold edge in his voice. He was apparently angry.

"Are you using John's phone?"

"Yes I am, you know; since Dr. Watson and I are just such good friends…" Mycroft said with heavy sarcasm.

"What do you want, Mycroft?" Molly asked, removing her white coat.

"I just came out of the plane; I wanted to know if you wanted to have dinner with me tonight. I know it is quite short notice, but with my extremely busy schedule and your exceedingly childish attitude –"

Molly removed the phone from her ear and glared at it. _Childish?_ She made a face, cross eyed and stuck her tongue out at the phone. _There! That's childish! s_he thought, and before bringing the phone back to her ear retrieving her handbag from her locker.

"There is no point in making faces." Mycroft chastised.

Molly looked quickly around the room, but there was no camera. "How do you know? There is no camera in the room." she asked.

Mycroft laughed, not bothering to deny her accusation. Molly hated the smile his laugh brought to her lips. She was supposed not to care anymore; she was supposed to be done with him. "You think I need to see you to know what you're doing?"

"For dinner, my answer is no." she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Mycroft sighed. "Is it a no because you can't, or is it a no because you don't want to?"

"Both" she replied truthfully as she walked out of the hospital. "But I do have plans tonight."

"With John Watson?" he asked, and Molly wondered if she had just imagined the edge she heard in his voice.

"Why do you ask? I'm sure you already know anyway."

"There is no point in denying that, is there?"

She couldn't help but scoff. "No. But I think you were right" she added as she got into the bus.

"I generally am. You will need to be more specific."

"You and I, it's a mistake." she said, not entirely convinced it was the truth.

Mycroft sighed. "And just when I started to think otherwise."

Molly rolled her eyes and bit her tongue to stop herself from saying something she would most likely regret. "I have to go I…I'm glad you're back safe and sound" she finally admitted before disconnecting the call.

She arrived at the fish and chips shop 45 minutes late and was sad not to see John. Everything today had been hellish, like life had wanted her to be late. Was it because karma didn't want her to be part of the anniversary of Sherlock's 'death'? All she knew was that her bus had to stop for over 20 minutes due to a road blockage. The driver was given the order not to let anybody out. After that she called a taxi 3 times and he never showed. She had texted and called John a few times but never managed to reach him. She had called Greg, who told her he had to cancel and had talked to John about it a couple of hours earlier. The commissioner had requested that he do a guard swap and there wasn't much Greg could deny the commissioner.

Molly cursed, seeing John was not there. He was probably mad at her, thinking she ditched again- and she couldn't blame him for that. She texted him knowing he was probably too upset to pick up his phone.

_I'm sorry I was late. I'll stay for a little while. I hope you will forgive me and come back. XOXO Molly_

"May I join you?" asked a voice as soon as she pressed the send button.

Molly didn't need to look up to know it was Mycroft.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea, we can't say John is your number one fan," she replied, finally looking up to meet his eyes. Mycroft didn't have his usual cold façade, and looked almost friendly.

"Well, I don't see John anywhere; but I promise to leave if he comes and keep our friendship a secret." Mycroft stated, and sat, clearly confident that she wouldn't refuse.

"Is that what we have?" she asked

Mycroft ordered two plates before turning to her. "What?"

"Friendship."

Mycroft rested his arms on the table and linked his hands together. "I thought we did, yes, until you started ignoring my calls, at least."

Molly nodded. "Likewise."

Mycroft frowned. Molly could see his patience was wearing thin and yet he was doing his best to keep his cool. "I thought you understood my job will always come first, I never hide that fact."

Molly sighed, shaking her head. "You are so smart and yet ….Never mind, you were right we can't be friends."

"And I reject your conclusion. First I never said we couldn't be friends, I simply stated that I didn't have nor need any friends. However, over the last few months I reviewed my previous statement and yes I have a friend…you."

Molly softened ever so slightly; she hated the fact that he could just say a few words and make all her resolves crumble. He was so like Sherlock that way, it was not fair. "I don't think it's the right place to discuss this." she added, hoping he would leave and would keep the little dignity she had left.

"Ah yes, at least this is something we can agree on."

Molly eyebrows shot up in surprise. "We do?" she said shocked that he would give up so easily. She was also a little hurt that he did.

Mycroft nodded, reaching for his wallet. "Yes, let me drive you home. We'll be in a better environment to discuss things."

"I'm still waiting for my food, and maybe John will show up."

"Can we get the food to go please?" Mycroft asked the man behind the counter. "That's settled" he said once the man nodded. "As for John, no offence but…" Mycroft retrieved his pocket watch "it has been over an hour- I think you can say this won't happen."

"Is there anything you don't know about my schedule?"

"Very little."

"I am not sure I like it." Molly said.

"I'm not sure you have a choice."

Molly glared, but she knew that she wouldn't get much more in the discussion department if she stayed there.

"You know, you are in much more danger than what you think" he said when they settle in the car with their food. "If I have men checking on you, it's mostly because of your connection to Sherlock and the still existing Moriarty network."

"You said mostly."

"Yes, I have to admit I like the idea of having you safe. If you expect me to apologise for that I won't ,so don't get your hopes high. I just…That's it."

"Yes, well, if I am supposed to be okay with all that; maybe you could try harder, too."

"Molly, I'm sure you're aware of the situation in the Middle East. It has reached a critical level and they really needed me there to –"

Molly raised her hand, getting even more offended, if that was actually possible. "Do you think I am mad because you cancelled our date?"

"I want to say yes, but based on your angry face, I would probably just anger you even more." Mycroft sighed. "OK- I give up, what is it?"

"The fact that you cancelled is truly not a problem. I know what you are…well no, I don't, and to be fair I don't even want to know. Just… I know I am not a priority in your life. I know I do not even make the top five and it's fine. I just thought I deserved a little more notice than an hour before and I am not working for you."

"I know that."

"Then please take a minute to give me a call, and don't pretend you couldn't do it, because a quick phone call during a pee break would have been more than enough."

Mycroft sighed again as the car stopped in front of Molly's place. Now he remembered again why relationships were not his thing. Women were just raw exposed nerves getting irritated about nothing. Every part of his logical mind told him to bid her goodnight, He should just leave and let her deal with her woman's craziness on her own, and yet he heard himself say "May I at least come in and explain myself?"

Molly let him in. "You have nothing to explain."

"You are the one complaining about being under scrutiny. You are bullying my men when they are trying to keep an eye on you." he said, setting the bag of food on her table.

"You were prying, Mycroft; this was not for my security."

Mycroft dismissed her comment with a gesture. "Your level of security is the maximum I can put you on without alerting the higher-ups. If I had been the one calling you, you would have become a PEP. As much as I can control most things, I would lose full control over your surveillance."

"PEP?"

"Politically exposed person- once you are on this list, Molly, there is no turning back."

Molly shrugged. "Well, if that is what it takes, then so be it."

Mycroft looked at her with disbelief; "You have no idea what it entails… thorough background checks in every single area of your life, being flagged in systems all over the world when applying for anything."

Molly shrugged again. "I have nothing to hide, if I have to do it then I will."

"You would do all that just to be my friend? I am sorry, Molly dear, but no matter how highly I think of myself, I am not sure I am worth the trouble."

Molly gave him a small smile. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

"You have no idea what you are getting into."

"Consider me warned" she added with a small smile, not really sure she knew what she was getting into.

"So are you sure there is nothing you want to know?"

"I don't-" Molly looked at him confused.

Mycroft sat gracefully on her armchair crossing his legs elegantly. "I do not sleep with my assistant" he said, very calmly holding her eyes.

Molly looked away mortified, cursing Anthea. She had asked that out of anger. She was quite pleased when Anthea told her she was the one who needed to ask, because once the anger subsided she realized how out of line her question really was.

"I find the idea of sex quite repelling to be honest," Mycroft shook his head… "it's very unsanitary." He looked up to Molly, who was looking at him, her jaw slack.

Molly sat heavily on the sofa. "Okay…" was all she could say, that was bound to be one frustrating relationship.

"Have no fear, I am not my brother and sex does not alarm me. I do indulge in this physiological need when I do require it but it is exclusively through highly paid professionals."

Molly expected him to say 'gotcha' at any moment, but it never came. She couldn't believe that Mycroft just admitted he was not attracted by sex but when he had to have relief, he was using high end hookers. Molly also knew how these high priced women looked, she was not half as good looking as these women.

"But it was before I met you…With you I don't need it, I just want it and it's very different and unsettling. Sex has always been a means to an end….I can see you are self-conscious. As selfish as it sounds, I only used highly paid professionals for their discretion and lack of sentiment. What they looked like didn't matter to me; they never counted- but you…"

"I?" She asked breathlessly.

"You are waking up a part of me that I thought was dead for a very long time…Desire, jealousy; I feel them all when I am around you. You are making me weak and I don't like it."

At the word desire, Molly's heart started to palpitate even more…just a simple word made her body react in ways she never expected. "Jealous?" she asked, trying to keep the fog of want at bay.

Mycroft stood up and walked gracefully toward her, stopping so close she could feel his body heat radiating out from where he stood.

As his fingers trailed down her neck, it was like he was setting fire to her skin. "You, my dear, are stirring a part of me I was sure I killed a very, very long time ago" he whispered as his eyes followed the movement of his fingers down Molly's graceful neck to the curve of her shoulder.

Molly breath was caught in her throat when Mycroft hooked his forefinger in her bra strap and brought it down her shoulder. He leaned in slowly, probably to let her take the time to step back if she hadn't wanted him, but by then her brain was on a complete lust overdrive and all she could think of was how long it would take to get him out of his suit.

When Mycroft started to nibble softly on her shoulder, she forgot everything and buried her hand in his hair as a little moan of pleasure escaped her mouth.

Before even realizing it, Mycroft was kissing her lustfully and she was pulling at him by his jacket to direct him to her bedroom.

Mycroft was possibly the best lover Molly ever had. Not that she was such an expert, as she could count on the fingers of one hand the men she slept had with. But for someone who claimed not to be attracted by sex, Mycroft turned out to be a very skillful, gifted and caring lover.

"Are you really good in everything you do?" Molly asked, breathless and satisfied, resting her head on his shoulder.

Mycroft chuckled before kissing her forehead. "Well, I did tell you I was a genius, didn't I?"

Molly laughed, playing idly with Mycroft chest hair.

"But I do agree, it was very different than usual,"

"Different good or different bad"? Molly asked, closing her eyes.

"Depends on how you look at it." he replied.

Molly opened her eyes and looked up at him with concern. "What do you mean?"

"Good in a sense that for the first time I do understand the appeal sex has on people; it is much more pleasing than I thought it could be."

Molly smiled. "That's because it was with someone you care for and someone who cares a lot about you too."

Mycroft sighed. "Presumably yes, but now I think it's bad because I don't think I will ever be able to enjoy it any other way and it will certainly be very difficult not to jump on you every time I see you."

Molly chuckled. "I don't see anything wrong with that." she said, bringing her hand to his cheek.

"I do," Mycroft reached for her hand on his cheek and held it. "For the first time in forever I let my urges think and we took some inconsiderate risks. I never wanted to be a father, what if you are now with child?"

"With ch—Oh! No, don't worry, its fine I am on the pill."

Mycroft frowned. "I thought you had been single for a while."

Molly blushed. "I- yes, you know-" She let out a little embarrassed laugh. "It was more on a 'what if ' basis, what can I say, I am an optimist."

Mycroft's Cheshire cat smile appeared as the lusty glint reappeared in his eyes. "God bless optimism." he said. Wrapping his arms around her, he flipped her so she was pinned under him. "Enough talking….Where were we?" he asked, crashing his lips on hers again.


	12. Chapter 12

**A.N: **Hey Mollcroft fans.

Here is the latest chapter. I know a lot of you wanted to know what the texts Mycrofts sent so here you go. I hope you enjoy.

Steffy

**Chapter 12:**

When Molly woke up, she was alone in the bed and the other side was cold already. She was not even surprised that Mycroft didn't stay the whole night. She was pretty sure he was locked in his office somewhere, working.

She turned to look at the clock and smiled. The piece of paper on her night table with her name in a very elegant script was so far from Sherlock's horrible writing. It read:

_I am sorry for leaving you like this, but work is never far away. Call me after your lunch with Mrs. Hudson. See below a phone number to only use in case of emergency…And just so you know, you have made the top 5 on my priority list._

_Mycroft._

Molly couldn't help but smile, this was no love declaration, but she didn't expect any. He cared for her and it was obviously as far as he would go.

Molly still had a big smile plastered on her face on her drive to Baker Street. She had to chastise herself to get more serious, as a big smile would certainly not be appropriate for a death anniversary.

It was John who opened the door and she was surprised that he didn't look angry at her.

"I'm sorry I was late!" she blurted out as soon as she walked in. "I tried to call you time and time again."

"It's okay" he said giving her a hug. "My phone died just after you texted me, and I had no reception for some reason until this morning. "

Molly sighed with relief. "Yes, I called a few time to tell you I was going to be late. I'm so sorry, the traffic was horrendous- you did well not to wait."

John frowned, surprised. "I stayed there all night."

It was Molly's turned to be confused. "What do you mean? I was 45 minutes late but you were gone already."

Molly opened her mouth to reply when Mrs. Hudson appeared in the corridor. "Ah, Molly you're here. John, don't be rude and let the poor girl in."

Molly hugged the older lady.

"Please come to the kitchen. Greg is already nibbling at the starter." Mrs. Hudson added, gesturing them toward the kitchen.

"Just one minute, Mrs. Hudson." said Molly before turning to John. "I didn't see you there."

John shrugged. "We may have missed each other; the place was so crowded."

Molly frowned again. "No it wasn't, there were like three people."

It was John's turn to frown. "At the Aleria?"

"What? I thought we were supposed to meet at the Fish and Chips place."

"Yes…." John trailed off as if she had lost her mind "but you texted me to change the meeting place."

"Can I see my text?" Molly asked.

"Are you sure you're alright, Molly?" John asked with genuine concern, getting his phone out of his pocket. "You are getting me worried now."

Molly took John's phone and read the text. _I think fun is what we need to remember Sherlock. Meet me at the Aleria. Molly xoxo_

Molly felt the blood boiling in her veins. She was beyond furious…Mycroft being aware of everything in her life was one thing, but him actually interfering in it, was a completely different matter. "Oh…Yeah, I forgot." she said, voice clipped, trying her best to not show how angry she really was.

"You forgot?" John asked with incredulity.

Molly forced a laugh. "Yeah, my incompetent boss is always dumping all his work on me. I thought about the Aleria and actually forgot I told you about it. I thought I didn't text you but I guess I did…" she sighed. "I'm sorry, my life is really out of control." she said, and was quite pleased that only a small part of what she said was actually a lie.

"Please don't feel bad, it actually ended up quite well for me" John added, squeezing her shoulder and going in the direction of the kitchen. "I met someone."

"Oh, you did!" Mrs. Hudson squealed as she caught the end of John's sentence. "What's his name?"

Greg threw Molly an amused looked as she sat beside him. They were always laughing at how Mrs. Hudson was so certain that John and Sherlock used to be a couple.

"Her name is Mary." John replied, sitting down at the table.

"Her? Oh dear, you are really moving on."

"Mrs. Hudson, I'm not gay." John added, not able to hide the irritation from his voice.

"If you say so dear…If you say so."

John sighed, shaking his head dismissively.

Molly was grateful for the banter as it did help her ease her anger; she still reached for her phone and texted Mycroft.

_I need to see you urgently. I should be home in a couple of hours. Come as soon as practicable, meddling is NOT okay. Molly._

**MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM**

Mycroft sighed, putting his phone back in his pocket.

"She knows, doesn't she?" asked Anthea as she was passing reports to Mycroft of some intelligence analysis collected by the Secret Services.

"Of course she does, I didn't expect any less."

"And she is angry?"

Mycroft nodded while reading the report. "I presume she is absolutely furious."

"And was it worth it?"

Mycroft couldn't help the small smile that appeared to his lips. "Positively."

Mycroft never intended to have sex with Molly. Even after kissing her, it was not really something he thought about. But the day he cancelled his date with her and she refused to pick up his calls, he had to send his men to get a visual. It showed her in that green dress going to meet another man. The basic primal instinct of jealousy he had always mocked took over. The only thing he could think was, "she is mine".

As soon as Anthea had walked in the room to tell him Molly was not happy, he had asked her to send an active surveillance team with real-time feed. When he got a picture of Molly in a green dress a couple of hours later, a wave of anger, jealousy and possessiveness overtook him. It was something unfamiliar and absolutely irritating, but he couldn't stop getting angrier just thinking about it.

It got to the point that he almost caused a diplomatic crisis with the French president. It was excused on the high pressure and the 12 hours locked in the resolution room. A break was called, during which he tried to call Molly who didn't answer. He then called his team, who told him she was having dinner with John Watson.

The jealousy Mycroft felt at that moment almost took him to his knees. He knew that if he had been somewhere in London, he would have walked into that restaurant and probably caused a scene. Mycroft frowned; he didn't like this previously unknown part of himself. Mycroft was not jealous or territorial; he had never cared enough for this.

He called her over and over again, hoping that her annoyance would take over and force her to answer.

_Molly, would you be an adult and answer your phone? MH_

_I don't understand the anger. MH._

_This will never work._ That was the last text he sent before the meeting resumed.

When Mycroft got the final feed of Molly going home alone, his anger subsided. He realized how pathetic and irrational he had been. Mycroft was nothing if not pragmatic and rational.

"Do you want to keep the active feed on Doctor Hooper?" asked Anthea when the meeting was adjourned for the night.

"No, actually I want you to reduce her security to the minimum acceptable. I don't want any reports unless there is anything unusual or life-threatening."

"Sir? Are you sure?" asked Anthea.

"Positive." Mycroft replied, closing the door of his bedroom without looking back.

Mycroft needed to correct the mistake he made. He had become fond of a woman, someone completely irrational. She had affected his work, and this was not acceptable. His work would always come first, and he pride himself on being emotionally detached. That was what helped him get promoted so quickly within the government. He was no fool; he knew he was referred to as the Ice man. But he also was the one they always turned to when they had difficult choices or impossible decision to make. Even for the tedious job of making people talk, they always came to him. He had no regrets, which he saw only as being a senseless way to correct human error. He did what had to be done and he never thought twice about it.

On his flight home, Mycroft picked up the copy of the Daily Mirror. 'One year after the death of the fake genius…How are they coping?' These newspapers were rubbish and all England knew that, but Mycroft had the laborious task to go through them every single day. What people didn't know was that, even if 97% of what was in these papers were absolute nonsense, such as 'I am pregnant with Elvis Presley's baby', in some very rare cases something was true. It was often something that was too absurd for reputable newspapers. In these rare cases Mycroft had to do damage control before proof was found. He needed to have people bought, discredited or worse. For England's security and political stability was the duty he held above all else. Everything came with a price, but no matter how high it was, Mycroft would pay it without a second thought.

Mycroft went to page 7 to read the article about his brother. There was a huge picture of John with sunglasses getting out of 221B, a picture of Lestrade leaving the cemetery, and a picture of John hugging Molly the day of the funeral. Mycroft frowned, reading the comment under the picture. 'Bart's pathologist comforting the fake genius' boyfriend- is it more than friendship? This hug suggests romance- is there more to their relationship?' This implication was utterly ridiculous, borderline insulting really.

Mycroft sighed, folding the newspaper on his lap, before taking a sip of his scotch. He had almost forgotten that it had already been a year since Sherlock faked his death. He might not care a lot about John Watson, but he had made a promise to Sherlock to make sure his friends remained safe, and Mycroft was a man of his word.

"How is John Watson doing today?" he asked Anthea as he looked outside the plane window as England's coastline appeared on the horizon.

"Sir?" she asked, surprised that her boss mentioned John. For the past few days, it was like nobody existed for him anymore.

"Today is the anniversary of my brother's death and John Watson is quite a 'sentimental' creature, I just want to make sure he is not about to do anything stupid or reckless today. I promised Sherlock."

"I will check and let you know, sir."

"Thank you." Mycroft replied, resuming his newspaper reading.

"John Watson is having dinner tonight to commemorate Sherlock." Anthea said as their plane was starting its descent.

"Who is going?"

"Detective Lestrade, John, so and Dr. Hooper."

Mycroft didn't miss the little faltering in Anthea's voice as she said Molly's name. He was sure she was trying to get a reaction, so he made sure to keep his face as passive as possible. "They didn't invite me, I am heartbroken." Mycroft simply stated. "And where is this heartfelt commemoration taking place?"

"The Fisherman club, I believe it was…is your brother's favourite fish and chips place."

Mycroft nodded. "Indeed it is… Thank you, at least I know he won't try to kill himself tonight. That's a relief" he added, but there was no emotion in his voice.

"Is there anything else you need to know, sir?"

"No, perfect…." Mycroft hated the fact that Molly was going to spend the evening with John once more. He had thought he was over it but, the picture in the Mirror and the legend underneath didn't sit well with him. Just the idea of John with Molly… His hand trailing on her shivering body, his lips all over—Mycroft grimaced at the mental picture. No, that was not going to happen, not now, not ever. Molly was too intriguing to let her go, at least for now… once he had figured out the whole puzzle it would be different, but Mycroft was certainly not the type to leave a problem before it was resolved.

"Actually, please have a second car come to the tarmac, I still have some work to do and I believe you deserve your evening. I will see you tomorrow."

"Are you sure, sir?"

"Positive." Mycroft retrieved his phone and called the Secret Services IT Centre. "Mycroft Holmes, authority 247563. I need a mobile cloned for the next 4 hours. John H. Watson- approval code: 'consulting soldier' file 37942."

Anthea was looking at Mycroft with wonder but refrained from asking any question. All she knew was that, for the next four hours, Mycroft could use John's phone number for any communication he wished. By doing that he was also deactivating John's phone for any in or out calls and texts, and he could choose which texts or calls John could actually receive. Anthea sighed as the plane landed. She didn't know what her boss had in mind, but she knew it was nothing good.

As soon as Mycroft got into the car, he called the deputy commissioner's direct number. "Hello Fredrick, Mycroft Holmes on the line." Mycroft looked at his watch. "I do not have much time but it is a matter of national security that Detective Lestrade works tonight… I cannot explain and nothing should alert him. This man is doing an outstanding service and Her Majesty the Queen is not ignorant as to his efforts." added Mycroft, knowing that buttering up the Commissioner could help Lestrade's career. He deserved that much after Mycroft interfered with his plans.

After that, Mycroft had used John's cloned number to call Molly, and as expected, she answered him the second time. Her voice had an effect on him, hearing her breathless and rambling made him smile. This woman had the gift to puzzle him, captivate him, and make him laugh…mostly in spite of himself. It was a ray of sunshine in his stern and calculating world. Maybe it was why it was so hard for him to let go, even if he knew it was the best for both of them.

"Molly-" he said, and he smiled again at her sharp intake of air. He knew her well now and had started to understand the effect he had on her.

He hadn't expected to ask her out for dinner, all he wanted was her to be alone…Why? He was not really sure, but once he heard her voice he realized he wanted to see her, no matter the consequences. Her negative answer didn't faze him. Molly did have some backbone, and he knew it would take more than a couple of sweet words to make her come around.

As soon as he hung up he directed his driver to the Diogenes Club as he called the surveillance team from Molly, and found out she just got in Bus 26.

Mycroft called the secret service agent placed at the city transit office. "Authority 247563, Code amaranth on Bus 26, a 30-minute delay is required."

Mycroft knew what he was doing was all kinds of wrong. He also knew that when Molly found out, she would be beyond furious. He couldn't feel any guilt- he had to make her listen. If that was what it took, then that was the way he would act.

As soon as Mycroft reached the Diogenes, he went onto the secure network, and smiled at the screen.

"Hello, Adriana dear, how would you like to meet a nice ex-army doctor?" he whispered to his screen, while furiously typing on his keyboard. He requested from ex agent 256 an update on her activity and location. Mycroft asked for the agent to go to the Aleria

After that, Mycroft sent a text to John, using Molly's number and changing the meeting point.

As soon as Mycroft got the okay from John, he deactivated his phone for the night.

"Now you will have to listen to me, Dr. Hooper." he said with his smirk as he went to stand by the window, waiting for his plan to unfold.

"Sir, I know I am not an expert, but I know that people don't appreciate when we meddle with their lives." said Anthea, bringing him back to reality.

"Well, people should know who they are getting involved with." he replied.

"Also, sir, I received a call this morning asking for verification."

"Verification about what? "

"It seemed you accessed the inactive international agents' database yesterday. They wanted to make sure it was you and not a breach in the system. It seems it is not our division, sir."

Mycroft nodded. "Yes it was me; I don't see the reason for concern."

"Well, these people traded secrets with our Secret Services in order to get new identities. They lived here, usually as a fresh start… Most of them don't like to be reminded of their past."

"Well we all have a past; no matter how much you try to run away from it, it's never far enough."

"I just can't help but wonder…" she added tentatively.

Mycroft sighed, putting the report down before meeting his assistant's eyes. "What are you wondering?"

"Just-" Anthea shook her head. "Molly doesn't know how far you would go to get what you want."

Mycroft thought of the text he just received from her. "I beg to differ- I think she is figuring out right now to what lengths I am ready to go."

**MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM**

Molly was so furious after Mycroft's message that she scrubbed her house spotless waiting for him to come. She had almost given up on him showing up when she heard a brisk knock on the door.

"Did you tamper with John's phone?" she asked as soon as she opened the door. She knew she looked like a complete mess with her messy ponytail, sweatpants and holey St Bart's tee-shirt, but she was just too furious to even care.

"May I at least come in, or do we have to do it in the street?"

Molly sighed, gesturing him in. "So- did you tamper with his phone?"

"Yes, I did" he said with no shame.

"And why did you do that?" she asked, taken aback by his admission.

"Because you were childish. If you had answered my call and didn't play games, I never would have had to go to such measures."

"So you are blaming your behaviour on me?" she asked, incredulous.

"Obviously. "

Molly had a humourless laugh. "You're unbelievable! "

"I know" he said with a small smile.

Molly shook her head, her anger was fading but she had to stand her ground. "And what game am I playing?" she asked, walking into her kitchen to scrub her sink.

"Were you trying to make me jealous with that green dress?" he asked, leaning against the kitchen wall.

Molly's scrubbing faltered, and she let go of her sponge before turning around slowly. She had known that calling John and going out in the dress was a mistake. If she was completely honest, a little part of her had hoped he had watched and realized what he had missed.

Mycroft's eyes shone with victory. He had made mistakes…( well what she considered as mistakes) but for him it had been a means to an end. He did all that so she would listen to him, and it ended with them making passionate love all three times… This mission had been a success.

"I bought that dress for you." she admitted, looking down "And you let me down…again."

Mycroft took a few steps toward her and stood just close enough to touch. "I liked the dress… No, I loved the dress. I just hated the fact you were wearing it for someone other than me."

Molly looked up. "Were you jealous?"

"You can call it that."

"There is nothing between John and I."

"There is nothing stopping you." Mycroft added.

"Yes there is—There is you." she added to herself. She sighed, dodging him to create some distance between them, and walked backed into her small living room. "I'm not like that. John is my friend, I would never jeopardize that- and what you did was out of line."

"I guess that tampering with his phone and your bus –"

"You had something to do with the bus, too?!" she asked, furious once more.

Mycroft gave her a sheepish look. "There are no coincidences, Molly."

"This is unbelievable! I am not some kind of doll you can play with and direct wherever you like, you know! I accept the spying because I trust Sherlock- and you -when you say it is for my own security, but this... this is going too far! How can you-"

"Oh, cut me some slack, would you?!" Mycroft burst out.

"What?" Molly couldn't believe he was the one getting angry.

"You know, I have no idea what I am doing. I told you before I never wanted anything I couldn't buy, steal or take; but this is different,. It is unfamiliar for me and I think you should be more indulgent."

"You want me?"

Mycroft gave her an exasperated look. "Oh, come on, Molly- you're smarter than that! Wasn't last night proof of that?"

Molly blushed at the memory of Mycroft's possessiveness during their lovemaking.

"I told you before, Molly, I am not a good man. I've lied, I've stolen, I've cheated, I've conspired, I've killed all in the name of my country, and I would do it again in a heartbeat if I needed to. I don't work on sentimentality, on family kinship... I do what has to be done but I care… I care about you. "

"I thought caring was not an advantage."

"It isn't, sentiment is a weakness and it seems I am weak"

Molly sat down, drained.

"I told you sentiment has the ability to bring the worst out in people. I never felt jealousy before. That is not something I liked feeling."

Molly nodded. "I believe in exclusivity, Mycroft. Even if what we have is temporary and secret, I promise to remain faithful. I promise to try to understand you, but you have to promise to stop trying to control my life. I am not your colleague or you employee, I am—" Molly stopped. What was she to him? She was not even sure. "I am- What am I?"

Mycroft seemed to ponder that for an eternity. "You're my very special friend."

Molly knew she had no reason to expect more, and yet his words were disappointing somehow. "From now on, no more lies, okay?" she said, standing up.

"No more lies." he agreed, kissing her; knowing that his statement was probably the biggest lie of all. Now, could I see you in that green dress?" he added, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her to him.


End file.
